diary

How Many Resolutions Did Dan Fail in 2017?

/ Dan Hackett / Leave a comment

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A year ago I wrote an article titled ‘A List of Shit I’m Going to Do This Year Unless the World Ends, Which It Probably Will, Because Donald Trump is a Moron’. If you would care to join me now, I am rather curious to revisit this list and assess how well I performed over the past 12 months. Of course, there’s every chance you couldn’t physically care less about my personal goals and ambitions, and that is fine. Good day to you. To anybody still reading, let’s creep our peepers over the bafflingly long and wildly optimistic list I made, one year ago today… Continue reading →

The Berlin Diaries – Blinding My Boss

/ Dan Hackett / 2 Comments

Wake-Berry

I always start these diary entries in the same way and I’m gosh darned bored of it. So here’s my newest introductory paragraph:

 

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!

WHAOAOAKAKAKAKAKKAASDHOFUOEZZZZPPO

-KWIP!

 

See that^^^^? 100% Original. OG literature. Mark Twain said there is no such thing as a new idea. Well, I just proved him wrong. You’re full of shit, Twain.

What’s that? Joyce already did it?

Kerouac too?

Fuck’s sake. Fine. Whatever.

ANYWAY Continue reading →

Primal Screaming

/ Dan Hackett / Leave a comment

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it was tramlines festival in sheffield. we had been out all day, a big group of us, new friends and old friends running around together being half wits.

i was on a high, no drugs yet, just pure energy borne all from freedom and a can-do sunnyside upbeat demeanour, the sort that just pours out of you

when ya with ya mates. Continue reading →

The Berlin Diaries – The Eggs

/ Dan Hackett / 4 Comments
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Dave turned 23 last weekend. It was Friday night and I was three sheets to the wind, sitting cross legged on the floor of a colleague’s bedroom with a handful of workmates, listening to music and getting ready to head to some tropical-themed party across town. Dave called and told me to head to his flat, as everybody was there. He asked me to bring some drinks but the signal was bad; all I could really make out was that he wanted me to come over.

Continue reading →

Drink, Play, Loathe: Day 7.5, Venice After Dark

/ Dan Hackett / 1 Comment

venice-paintings-wallpaper-1Previous:

Drink, Play, Loathe: Day 7, Venice by Sunlight

It’s 11pm and my last night in Venice has been spent in the hostel bar, after a lonesome meal by the canal on a candlelit terrace, where the waiter felt sorry for me and gave me free wine, with a wink. I was extremely humbled and grateful until the bill came and I found I’d been given free wine but charged 4 euros for a glass of tap water. Bastardo.

I was hoping to meet the Toronto girls from yesterday and chill, but they’ve gone to the opera. I had a look at tickets and they were around 40 each, so no. Instead, I sat myself at a central table in the hostel bar and nursed a beer, my eyes roving around the bar for a friendly face. A group of Spaniards in animated chatter, no; a rabble of droopy eyed Englishmen all attempting to charm the same one American girl, no; a middle aged Chinese couple knotted up in each other on the sofa, no. So that’s the kind of evening it was to be, then. I began to unpack my bag with a sigh, reaching for Kafka, my most loyal friend of late; a twisted, morbid companion, but a companion nonetheless.

‘How’s it going, mate?’ Continue reading →