Why coercing me into solving GCSE maths puzzles for my apparent entertainment and wonderment is not magic.
Presenting Kev’s genius theory of The Five Words The Brain Just Can’t Handle.
Last night, I had a prophetic (sort-of) dream, in which I – apparently – received Derren Brown’s mobile phone number.
I suppose my relationship with words and meaning changed. I was – unusually, I’d suggest – surrounded by, immersed in, positive ‘subliminal persuasion’.
Learning I could edit memories is one of the most effective and empowering things I’ve gotten from hypnosis and NLP.
I begin ‘I Can Bend Minds With My Spoon’ 2.0 with an update on whatever the fuck it is that the Freemasons are up to…
I have commandeered a magician as my boyfriend / Chief Magical Consultant.
I present, for the record, my approach to tarot before it is any further sullied by official magic. It’s called ‘Terrible Tarot’ and is entirely of my own invention. So there.
And thus I led two female friends, plus a deeply confused Norwegian rugby player, on a merry dance around Bergen, Norway, on an expedition known as: ‘Where Is My Coat?’.
I wanted to share my Grandma Jo’s eulogy. I sent this to a few friends ahead of her funeral and I’ve never before received such beautiful, heartfelt messages. I hope you enjoy it.