Garth Jones > Recent Status Updates

Serious boomer energy, real nineties shit.

Confirming, can write.

The kid’s got some insufferable literary tickets on himself, but the Wandin Valley meets Kryal Castle oeuvre’s a unique one, at least.

The Pissants would be absolutely run-through in a post match debauchery showdown with any single member of the Broken Hill Footy League.

This is some rough gear, some real Boomer brained Abe Simpson material.

If the forensics of email CCs down have your eyes rolling out of your skull, perhaps the internet poisoned clucking of the filthy rich Dem in his winter years will do your nut in… and then, of course, there’s Chris/ Chrissy.

JeeeeeSUS.

Going to persevere, but here’s hoping Holly Gibney retires after this mess.

Belting through this one.

A few of Three-Person’s contemporary turns of phrase are shitting me to tears, but otherwise this is gripping af.

Resolutely kicked my arse.

I keep thinking about this guy I know, who’s been working the same spreadsheet job since 2004. Every year he updates his post-it note calendar. This year, 2025, there is now a sheaf of 22 yellow post-its affixed to the top right side of his monitor, a grim testament to the grind if ever I saw one.

If you ever needed a gruelling primer on the continued rise of the Fourth Reich…

As the discourse descends even further into relentless Orwellian bullshit, Eli Valley keeps me (relatively) sane.

Everything sucks.

Dunno, man – this is going nowhere at a laggard's pace.

Tapping out.

It's pretty tame, but I'll take my horny Jane Austen inspired sappho vamps when I can get 'em.

Hitting pause on this, as there’s only so much tech dickheadery a body can take.

As a Xennial, it’s fascinating to see the diferences in perspective that half generation gap entails.

As a reader, this book is a slog.

Okay, now we’re getting somewhere… in a sort of slightly Whedonesque First Slayer sorta way.

Hanging in there.

Presently ambivalent.

Presently ambivalent.

This clueless dipshit in charge of a social media company: dangerous, galling, farcical.

Increasingly at the forefront of the global heave towards fascism?

Yeah.

The caveat being, he truly is dumb as a box of hammers, so that malign interference could go either way, I guess.

Yay 2025.

Into the Ex Machina via Stepford Wives zone we stumble.

Self-flagellation is go.

Yep, this is the business.

Revisiting this one for a pod appearance - something fifteen-year-old-me surely didn’t clock was just how fucking *funny* it is.

The surgeon in the prologue gets some Mad Men level zingers, for starters.

Thoroughly enjoying.

⚡️

Why am I finding this a slog?