Six Months With Leonard Cohen.

So today marks the six month anniversary of my year with Leonard Cohen.

Not bad, eh?

Six whole months.

Half-way there.

(Insert Bon Jovi reprieve… Just for laughs:)

To celebrate I am going to Jayde’s place to watch DVDs and play with her cat, Nike. And to spend one last, languishing afternoon sipping wine and being a person that drinks.

I’m excited– about the prospect of a really flat tummy, a fully developed pineal gland and the absence of that old chestnut– the rather time consuming cycle of recovery business. I really am. Excited.

And six months is nothing.

A lot has come of my six months, thus far, with The Godfather of Gloom. My mate, Leonard. Loads.

My life has actually completely changed.

And in some 179 days I have not once, slipped up.

Not once.

I’ve written everyday.

That was the point, right? And that’s what I’ve done.

And that feels really good.

And so for the 844 tags– I commend Tash– for getting up me about all things SEO.

And for the 120 comments those of you whom bothered to post– I thank you. And for the oodles and oodles of emails and comments others have sent me privately– I am flawed.


What a fucking cool idea this was.


And for all the disenchanted chats I’ve had– with all manner of folk– since January… The suggestions. The ideas. The phone calls informing me of typos. And for so many; You know what you should do… ‘s.

For all of them.

Here’s to another 177 more.

It’s not a lot of time.

177 sleeps.


It’s a tiny amount of time.

Anything can happen.



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