If ever there was a bad-ass in the kitchen it was the toaster. It was a nutcase.

Any contact you come with it, it just rages at you, unreservedly, apologetically. God help you if you throw a knife in there

It’s sole and primary purpose is to hurt others, torture them, literally char them alive. Lets sit in quiet thought for a moment for all of the poor slices of bread who had already suffered enough birthing method.

Around a year ago I came in from a night out, a tad intoxicated. In my kitchen I looked around me and I wanted to be productive, as was clearly the sensible thing to do at 4am. And I suppose I was; I ended up writing a collection of micro-stories about the collection of items in my kitchen. I was looking through that notepad today and I decided I’d let them see the light of air, as nonsensical as they may be.

That’s number 4, number five is on the way tomorrow, same place, don’t miss it.