Lager Time

Greetings, bonjour, what’s happening?

Welcome to Lager Time.

This weeks episode features the second chapter of Way of the Kip - a short story about a frustrated young mans quest to find a decent nights sleep, tired of course, only to be told there is staff training about biases. A bit of a touch for young Reece.

We left him just as the training was getting into nitty-the his gritty, having heared from collegue Bianca, who announced she had a great nights sleep. Reece is desperate to learn her ways, stay awake and not say anything stupid during the training.

Story below - if you’re listening to the audio of this cree.substack.com to see the words

For more Reece and New Town capers have a listen to a series I did a few years back called Young UnProfessional

If you enjoy this, please consider subscribing in whichever medium you prefer. It all helps.

Little music update - my latest rap EP - More 64s of Boredom - is almost done. Just need to mix the final two tracks then we’re good to go. About flipping time.

That’s it for now

Keep it Big out there, enjoy your weekends

Paul

Way of the Kip: A New Town Story

CHAPTER 2

The dryness had come early. The first power point slide had nine bullet-points and only one picture. Some generic stock photo of a young East-Asian looking guy in a white shirt, sat in a chair in an office, being spoke to by an older white guy: arms-crossed, stood up, wearing a suit, no tie, top button undone. No sound or animation effects on the slides, what a waste.

‘So what do you see when see you this picture? Let’s discuss’

My mind had become fixated on this sleep conundrum. The mug-off from Priah. The tiredness. Bianca’s radiance. Diane’s bum. Boring Keith clapping. It was all related somehow.

I was twiddling the biro in my hand, slumped in my chair. Had the thought that If I was to take the actual pen bit out from inside the plastic casing, then stick the casing in my mouth, like a blow-dart, with the other end in Bianca’s ear, I could siphon out some of her sleep powers. Short-term fix though. I’d probably end up sucking out four, maybe five, of her six braincells, then I’d be stuck in some endless loop of reality TV gossip and a montage of dull holiday photos.

‘The older man is probably is using the stereotype of Asian’s being good with computers, to get his computer to work, because he’s old and probably a bit racist, and doesn’t know to get on the internet.’

‘Ok, thanks, Shaz is it? Yep, ok, that’s certainly a racial stereotype that many people of East Asian descent have to suffer with.’

‘Don’t forget Kung-Fu and that. That’s a stereotype those lot have to face as well.’

‘Thank you, erm….Pete?’

‘Pete, yea.’

‘Ok thanks, Pete, so what else do we see?’

Pete was trying. I had to chuckle. Priah gave me the side-eye and I heard Shazz tut. Probably thinking I was laughing with Pete. This annoyed me a bit. Shaz could be like that. Very judgemental. She once accused me of spilling a load of coffee in the kitchen. I don’t drink coffee. But then something awakened in me. This urge to speak, I had to get it out, there and then.

‘Wait. What about the old guy, though?’ I asked.

‘What do you mean, Reece? Explain for us.’

‘Well, Shaz there has mentioned the possible stereotyping of the young man, presumably of East Asian descent, being good with computers. Fair enough, but what about Shaz’s stereotype of old people not knowing how to use technology? You never know, the old boy might be a tech-whizz. Maybe he’s the IT guy and the other guy is asking for his help.’

Shaz was screwing me. Bianca was backing her up. What? I thought it was a good point. Maybe I’d Just uncovered Shaz’s bias. ‘Ave that Shaz. You can’t fight bigotry with bigotry. As for you Bianca; lie down before you hurst yourself, maybe you can have a lovely restorative sleep whilst you’re there.

‘That’s a valid point, Reece. Stereotypes come in many forms.’

BOSH. That’s right. Thanks Monique. I was enjoying the validation. She continued.

‘So what do you think is going on in this picture? Tell us what you think, Reece.’

Silence. Shaz raised an eyebrow. Bianca smirked, Boring Keith placed his pen on the desk and smirked. Pete was miming a shovel digging into the ground, whilst smirking. Priah was writing something but shook her head. Everyone else was just looking at me, smirking.

‘I dunno. It could be anything. Maybe that guy sat down, like… owed the other guy a tenner… and now the Old Boy’s calling it in, but the other guy’s like… Oh I’ll pay you next week bruv…. but the old guys not having it because he’d already owed money from when they went on a bender the week before… but that night the Old Boy got a bit larey with the bouncers outside a club, he’d had a bit too much of the marching powder, so the guy sitting down had to intervene and maybe got slapped a bit, so then they both got barred from that club, because the old boy was giving it the big one…. but the guy sitting down is annoyed because he was moving to this girl in there that he really liked and like…’

‘Reece stop it, you’re being insensitive, this is a serious discussion’

Pariah, again. What did I do?

‘But it could be anything though, that’s my point.’ I said

‘Just shutup Reece.’ Shaz intervenes.

‘But I was…’

That told me then. Shaz, 1-1. I’ll give her that. Monique came to my rescue and then threw me under the bus. Created an unnecessary problem then solved it. She should be a politician. Monique for PM, the Essential Skills Party. The ESP.

‘Ok thanks, err.. Reece… yes, you’re right it really could be anything. But not everyone is going to instantly think along the lines of what you just said, as you’ve had time to think about it.

No I didn’t, I made it up on the spot, which I didn’t say.

‘Often, our judgements come from the unconscious, as opposed to the conscious, ultimately it speaks to our internal bias’s which we’re looking to interrogate here.’

The unconscious? Like un-concise-ness? Isn’t that a deep state of sleep? Why is she teasing me like this? I could do with some of that right now, what does that make me? Biased? Bigoted? Monique continued.

‘… But it’s interesting that you made the East Asian man, the one that owed the money, in this scenario, to the older white man…. what do you think that says?, Reece’

She must think I like it under the bus, where’s my greasy overalls? Priah turned her head to me. I just shrugged my shoulders in defeat. Must be biased.

‘I don’t know.’ I said.

Fortunately Monique spared my blushes and moved it on. She went into some segment about the different forms of discrimination and provided a few examples where it had been prominent in the culture, like minstrel shows. Reminded me of my Nan having those figurines on the wall, above the telly. So my Grandparents were bigots, then? Too much Bovril in the fifties, unsalted gammon and mash potato. Classic bigot.

In what was an exhaustive power-point slide, with no sound effects or animations, which included all sorts of TV and film references, I was disappointed that Blue Peter didn’t come up. Not that I thought that show was harbouring deep-rooted prejudices, I just felt like I needed a decent excuse for the irrational resentment I’ve always felt towards that melt-parade, it’s jarring presenters and their impossible to make DIY stuff – Tracey Island can be devastated by an earthquake for all I care. As if all you ever needed was a Corn Flakes packet, some Sellotape and a few felt-tips. Yea and the rest. It kept me awake at night. Like everything else.

As the session wore on, all I could think about was sleep. And Blue Peter. And not making a plank out of myself in staff training sessions. Solving this sleep issue. Bianca’s great sleep. I had to talk to Bianca. Find out what her secrets were. I really needed a kip. If I could just have one decent kip. No, wait, learn the secrets of good kip technique. The way of the kip, like some Kung Fu film. That’s it, that’s the one.

So long as I wasn’t sleeping well, the world was a worse place, full of bias swimming around, in like bile and brine and brandy. The soup of bias. Sounded like something from a French restaurant menu. Probably my unconscious talking there, again. Bigot.

During the last part of the training, we all had to go round and say one thing that we were going to take away with us. Most people said more or the less the same thing – being more conscious of the unconscious biases that possibly allegedly affected their decisions. Guaranteed Pete would have a new batch of sexist jokes come Friday. Bianca said she’d be examining her thinking from now on. I was curious to know how her bigoted subconscious affected her choice of yogurt, or which dull sun destination she should go on holiday too. I gave it a bit of thought and concurred.

‘Yea, it’s given me lots to think about.’ I said.

Like how to get a decent kip. I should’ve said ‘I’d sleep on it.’ Missed opportunity. To be fair, there probably was something in it all. We’re all a bit bigoted or have our biases, I guess. I still thought I was right to waive that that throw-in Gary’s game. That football pitch was a good fifteen-minute bop from my gaff. And it was raining.

Back at my desk, I decided that I had resolve this sleep issue. There had to be some magic formula out there that I wasn’t aware of. I made it my mission to find some sort of cure that would lead me to sleep enlightenment. Or at least a decent eight hours. In my mind, this was starting to play-out like some Kung-Fu adventure film, where a warrior has to go on this quest to find some source of ancient Kung-Fu wisdom, kip wisdom, so they can learn from the Kung-Fu Kip master. A shadowy, wise figure has to point them on the quest though. The way of the kip. Suddenly the picture of the east Asian guy from the training session popped into my head. I even heard the sound of a gong type thing. PSWSHYYYYYYY. Wait, was that my Bias talking? Why did the stock-photo of the East Asian guy pop in my head? Am I stereotyping? Am I bigot? Whatever. My first task, was to speak to Brianca, my Kung Fu Kip master, find out what she was on. Bianca could lead me to sleep Nirvana, so for the next hour or so, I kept on eye on the kitchen and bided my time.

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit cree.substack.com

Greetings, bonjour, what’s happening

This weeks episode of Lager Time - I read the first chapter of a short story called Way of the Kip.

It features my old Reece, on a quest to improve his sleep. Read a few of these stories over the years, if you’re interested, I did a series a couple of years ago on here called Young UnProfessional.

Hope you’re all enjoying the weather and have a great weekend.

Peas and taters

Paul

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit cree.substack.com

Greetings, bonjour, what’s happening?

Welcome to Lager Time.

Had a bit of a break, was just busy, nothing spesh,

but I’m with back with four poems from the older file. Poems below for those on Substack.

Subscribe if you like

Have a banging bank-holiday

Peas and taters

Paul

Ray Flecter Sunglasses That Barley Shield the Sun

I’m an ill-equipped archaeologist trying to excavate the truth

I’m a twice-a-year catholic stealing lead from the church roof

I’m downloading on dial-up Dances With Wolves plus deleted scenes

I’m everything and anything I wouldn’t ever wonna’ be

You’re a narcissistic stick-insect trying to convince itself it’s fat

You night read by spinning globe-light believing the earth is flat

You’re sailing shoes are brand-new and have never seen the sea

You’re anything and everything I wouldn’t ever wonna’ be

They’re globe-trotting eco-travellers who drive the car to the shops

They’re avant-garde fine-diners sipping Monster and Panda Pops

They’re conscious political activists who vote if it’s on TV

They’re everything and anything I wouldn’t ever wonna be

We’re all bedroom cleaners shoving everything under the bed

We’re all waging fingers at noisy neighbours leaving mess

We’re all buying books that sit unread but looking pretty

We’re everything and anything that we probably choose to be

Workshop

This pen ain’t no swordor weaponif anything, it’sa minute taker in ameeting, bored out of herflipping mind, imaginingdecking the dullard withthe white teeth talkingover the power pointdoodling on the paperinserting silly words intothe notes, just for herown amusement

a subtle survival techniqueaware a combined force of moronshave her surrounded on all

sides and although she lacksthe resources to fight them, shetakes solace in the fact that her

wage-superiors, sat around her

all feigning interest in thepower-point plank, have tolie about it just to get by.No thanks, she thinks

Weak Walking Shoes

Back then I didn’t know many people into people into

outdoor pursuits, certainly not outside Ikon-Diva

Crawley’s premier late-night go-to in 01

gone 2am with a curb-side-view, scuffles on the

pavement, arguments in the kebab que

couple of times I put on a pair of clumpy walking

shoes, zipped up the ugly- fleece and attempted to

scale the moral high ground, preaching to my mates

below that fighting was an immature thing to do

Now I’m at an age, where, keep it down, yea but

I might actually enjoying walking and I might-possibly-

have considered purchasing a pair of ugly-arse walking

shoes, because they’re water-proof and comfy and …

listen, that kid my mates mate slapped that time, probably deserved it

mouthed off unprovoked, squared up, probably shirtless

and when push came to shove, I was probably deserting

knowing deep down, I lacked the right gear for that sort of pursuit

wrong sort of shoes

so I ascended hilly peaks and preached my views

convinced I was on higher ground like a

champagne-socialist one windfall

away from a super yacht cruise

What’s Mr Chips Doing?

Not gonna’ lie

at times, she does my nut in

nothing ever that major, mainly minor but

major enough for us to get angry about, then laugh later

misinterpreting sentences, miss-read messages

making a mess and not tidying and differing

opinions on what tidy is and who’s

opinion is the definitive

in those moments, when the heat-peaks and the talking stops, inside I

turn cartoon-angry man; shoulders scrunched, face frowning, fists

clenched and steam bursting out my ears, condensation fogging

my view, twisting the narrative into something skewed

when I take myself out, calm down, the scene slowly

reveals itself, like the big-screen on Catch Phrase

little pixilated bricks start falling away and I

see what Mr Chips is really doing, without

the wild-guesses obscuring my view

I’m left with the naked truth and

it’s absolute

she’s holding up a house

holding down a career

supporting a family and a new husband who

has differing opinions on what tidy is and

what constitutes good food

all the steam that seeps out my ears

just little digital glitches

that only require little fixes

me admitting the things that I did or

didn’t and with the bricks all cleared, I

see how brilliant she

really is

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit cree.substack.com

Greetings, bonjour, what’s happening?

Welcome to Lager Time. This week, I delve back into the fictional word of my old mate Reece and share the first chapter of a new short story - no name yet but he’s going on holiday with his girlfriend. Story below

If you’re out and about tomorrow in London, I’ll be with the Poetry Takeaway in Covent Garden writing poems for anyone that wants one.

Then of course, two weeks today, Friday 27th, I’ll be doing a solo set at Poetry and Poppadums at Karamel, London.

Have a banging weekend

Paul

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit cree.substack.com

Greetings, bonjour, what’s happening?

Welcome to Lager Time.

Three poems this on a London theme - ish. Poems below for those on the Substack. cree.substack for those who aren’t

Don’t forget - 27th March - I’m performing at Poetry & Poppadums Karemel Wood Green, tickets are a tenner - Murray Lachlan Young, Skye Lilly and Paul Lyalls hosting. Wollop.

Hope you all have a great weekend

Paul

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit cree.substack.com

Greeings, bonjour, what’s happeing?

Welcome to Lager Time.

Four more poems this week. A bit of commentry this week on this and that - cafes, the news etc

As ever, poems are below for those on the Substack. cree.substack.com for those who aren’t.

Not haa lot of time to work on More 64s of Boredom this but it’s coming

Don’t forget, Friday 27th March - Poetry & Poppaums -at Karemel, Wood Green, London, me doing some poems alongside Murray Lachlan Young, Skye Lilly and hosted by Paul Lyalls

TICKETS - £10 - https://www.musicglue.com/karamel/events/2026-03-27-poetry-and-poppadums-with-murray-lachlan-young-karamel

Keep it lager than life

Peas and taters

Paul

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit cree.substack.com

Greetings, bonjour, what’s happening

Welcome to Lager Time.

This week I’m on a music theme. I’m slowly working my way through the tracks, mixing them, for the forthcoming More 64s of Boredom, so I talk a bit about that and the bigger questions of why even do this in the first place; for so little material reward.

Answer - I’m still figureing that out but I enjoy it, that’s enough of a reason, for now.

All 5 poems below for those seeing this on Substack - cree.substack.com for those that aren’t

Here’s a link to the Clublife poem (with sound design) I mention

Don’t forget, you can catch me live @ POETRY & POPPADUMS on Friday 27th March, Karmel, Wood Green, London - Murray Lachlan Young, Skye Young, Paul Lyals, Me

Thanks, as ever for listening

Have a great weekend

Peas and taters

Paul

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit cree.substack.com

Greetings, bonjour, what’s happening

Welcome to Lager Time.

London has been mostly wet and a bit miserable this week, in fact, most of the year, so far.

I don’t mind the rain, I like the sound of it and it lends itself very well to a bit of moody brooding on life; I love a bit of that too; some of which, you’ll hear on this weeks episode.

Poems below for those on Substack, cree.substack.com for those that aren’t. Why not give it a little subsrcribe as well?

Don’t forget, you can catch me live at Poetry & Poppadums - Friday 27th March - : Karmel, Wood Green, London.

I’m on with Murray Lachlan Young, Skye Lilly and the man himself, Paul Lyalls.

TICKETS - https://www.musicglue.com/karamel/events/2026-03-27-poetry-and-poppadums-with-murray-lachlan-young-karamel

That’s it

Have a banging weekend

Stay dry

Paul

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit cree.substack.com

Greetings, bonjour, what’s happening

Welcome to this week’s Lager Time

4 new poems, including one where I try and determine what and when do pints taste the best; controversial I know. Forgot to add on that list post-gig pints, they always taste good; too good!

Poems below for those getting this through Substack – cree.substack.com for those that aren’t

Don’t forget, I’m doing a gig in London on Friday 27th March.

Poetry & Poppadums @ Karmel in Wood Green

Murray Lachlan Young

Skye Lille

Me and hosted by the legend Paul Lyalls

Cabaret style, you can eat too, lovely Indian kitchen

TICKETS www.musicglue.com/karamel.

If you’re enjoying this, please give it a subscribe.

Either way, hope you’re all good

Have a banging weekend

Paul

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit cree.substack.com

Greetings, bonour, what’s happening?

Welcome to Lager Time.

I’m a bit rough this week, you know the coo: sore throat, cough, headache, tax return. Could be worse.

Three new poems this week. Couple of cynical ones with a lighthearted one to finish. All poems below

On the large-ups, here’s a link to Dan Cockerill’s site when you can buy his books. He’s who inspired me to do it myself. HIs most recent is Democratic Pirate Ship, it’s very good.

https://www.danielcockrill.com/shop

Catch me live at Poetry & Poppadums 27th March - at Karamel, Wood Green London FEAT - Murray Lachlan Young, Skye Lilly, me and ho sted by Paul Lyalls

If you’re intersted in me coming to do a gig, run a workshop, get in touch.

That’s it for now

Have a banging weekend

Paul

TWO TEAMS

Two teams are huddled together on the grass, as

three boys stand on the sideline

both teams are screaming at these kids to

pick a side

up until this point, the sides

picked themselves

two kids pick, leaving the last one left to choose

he looks at them both

this kid knows that both teams have

wankers in their ranks, loud-mouth

pricks he would rather avoid

he also knows that either side would

accuse the other of harbouring

dick heads, yet will deny, or try to justify the

existence of their own

this kid also knows that both teams can

play and both have players who can

pick a pass, time a tackle, finish in the

box, split a defence, keep their cool and hold

the line under attack

he knows they also have a

couple of hotheads

they both play a different way, of which there

are merit to both, he thinks

decision time

they’re still screaming at him to pick, but

he realises that this is the only time he’s ever

wanted by these lot

neither are interested in what he has to

offer, they just want him to make up the numbers

he knows they’ll both deny this so he tells them to

do one and looks for another game, because

there’s aint the only one being

played, despite what they

think

Prairie Oysters

show me something for the heart

something for the soul

I’m tired of the claims and

the feel-good messaging

snake oil supplements, organic, free-range and expensive

it seems the supposed betters among us have it figured

self-care routines; long baths and little

books of wisdom

loving the living and the laughing

they got the pieces on the board but are

they just pretending to play?

I don’t know how to play

I’m scared to play and

their type of talk makes me want

to run away and drown in lager and

keebabs

I know where that one goes, hence

the original question, nothing

seems to do it

I’m going to fast to slow down

too angry to relax

too cynical to mediate

too sprung too unwind

too skint to change my diet

trudging through life with

brain fluid close to boiling

belly corrosive too touch

feet fearful of standing still

fists full of theory but lacking the

minerals for fury

where’s that sweet salvation

they all speak of

or is it all just prairie ousters

lacking bollox?

PLUMSTEAD CABARET

Got down to the

Platform at

Plumstead

London Bridge

Bound

Eight minute

Wait

Reached for the

Blower

Stopped

Decided I

Wouldn’t

This time

It’s just too

easy

Instead, I

I went eyes

Left

to the

Steep bank

Flats towering

Over

I spied this squirrel

Darting in and out

The weeds and

Trees

Watched

Those

Little human-

Like hands

Picking at

Bits of food

With the

Erratic

Urgency

Of someone

Desperate to

Get out the

Office on a

Friday

It scrabbled down to

The platform

All nimble

feet

Looks at me

Then scarpers

Behind the

Waiting

Area

I was just thinking

To myself how I

Enjoyed that

Moment

When

it

Reappeared

with a

Second

Squirrel

They chased

Each other in

Front of me

Tussled a bit

Till the other

Darted

It was like an

Unexpected encore

After a surprisingly

enjoyable

show

Almost

Forgot

About

The

Twitch

From the

Pocket

Distractor

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit cree.substack.com