My teenage daughter went missing.

She was there at bedtime and gone in the morning.

Last week was a blur.

I’ve been sitting here staring at this blinking cursor for a couple of hours now, white-knuckling the past week’s thoughts into existence.

Writing something.

Hating it.

Backspacing.

Writing something, again.

Hating it, again.

Backspacing, again.

And, I’ve just now decided to call it quits.

I’m trying to be better about giving myself grace when the magic isn’t there (versus shaking the living shit out of the wand in hopes to muster up a few measly sparks).

And, I’m putting this…


Once upon a time back in English class I had to fart really bad.

I was a bit of a dork back then.

Actually, I still am but that’s not…


They say that training when you’re tired and totally messed up will make you a better athlete. I call BS on that. I’m still shit.

Gravity felt at its strongest this morning after a really rough night sleep. Sitting on the edge of the bed, my world started to crumble. My muscles felt heavy, I was light headed, my stomach felt weird. I was fatigued and depressed. An all too familiar feeling as an utterly shit endurance athlete.

What better way to climb over it than a little 11.5km run. No problem.

Training in this state simulates what the last…


A lady from the bank called to say my bank card had been stolen.

We had a good laugh about where the thief would spend the 2 quid.

Eventually the…

Ripley Davenport

Irregular musings and social sludge and comment-droppings from a roarer, a rogerer, a gorger and a puker. *ripley-davenport.com*

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