Sunday, 23 December 2012

Just an average night in at Toby Towers. This is me in Toby one-can-o-b(eer) guise. Note my beer-sabre. Courtesy of (and thanks to) Antony Davis.

courtesy of Goatess Doomwych

Sunday, 9 December 2012

The mesmerizing power of radio courtesy of Chritus Linderson

Sunday, 2 December 2012

Tramplord - by

Artwork by The Perverted Old Goatess
There is another Toby that I locked in a room when I was a kid. He didn't get out when I became an adult either, but people often heard him calling through the keyhole. I just lurched on. The room moved further away and the door grew to monstrous proportions. He was still calling out though, ideas and stuff, and curiously, the further away the room flew, the louder he became. And people also obser...
ved that I couldn't sit down - I've never been able to...

...and then that room stopped moving away, and started to come back...

It's coming back now.

Well as I've gotten older I have realised with growing dread that he's my twin. I realised that, when I die, I was gonna have to watch him die too, in that fucking room. I couldn't face the horror of wanting to open the door then, but having grown so old that I didn't have the strength left.

So I let him out.

He's in my beard. I think that's why it exploded. He's the one writing the songs, and he is the happy lunatic that presents the radio shows. He's got a crush on a lady now too ha ha silly sod.

So now as I sit on my beaten-metal throne petrified and atrophied, it is comforting to watch the little crittur flyin around building his little dream-machines

I'm glad he's out.