Welcome to Jamaica…


Ok, I know what ya saying. Ridgwell’s taking the piss with all this lit fiend shit.He’s seriously starting to get on our nerves. Why don’t he just shut the fuck up and stop bragging? Well, what can I say, it never rains, but it pours! But Dave my beleaguered and overworked postie saved the best for last. And this time he refused to even knock on my door, but instead left the literary package with my neighbour, Stella. Now, I know what you’re thinking. Ridgwell’s neighbour is named after his favourite beer? But it’s all true!

So here it is – all the way from the a tiny little rock in the Mediterranean – Jamaica. Feast your eyes on this beauty and get turned on by a book! All other small presses’s look away now, as you don’t want to suffer an acute attack of the green-eyed monster blues.

Now fiends, start pumping those paypal buttons. To order a copy of this limited edition literary number go here: pig ear press



Jamaica – think Montego Bay – like rum served on a silver tray. Think Ronnie and yours truly having another mad adventure in an exotic location. Think also of Bobby Bloom and Glenn Gould who never went to Nice. Now check out this amazing video to get you in the Montego Bay mood! Obviously no expense was spared in the production of this film. Check out the funky dancers on the river bank. Far fucking out!

Milk Race Fans  – The Fourth Emergency Service is back in business. So you crazy screwballs zone your perverted optics on this super 8mm! One, two, three, strip!




An Unusual Editorial Vacancy, Jamaica & The Sunlight Pilgrims


Lit fiends – gather round – and listen to the tale of sorrow and sadness I, Joseph Ridgwell, have to tell. Just recently it was brought to my attention that the legendary head honcho of the Edinburgh Institution – The One O’Clock Gun – has been forced to resign his position due to mass hysteria and shameful Mary Whitehouse – like criticism of my short story – The Old Lady of Threadneedle Street – which featured in issue 21. Twelve years The Gibson has held that cherished position and unlike George Obsorne who when asked to resign due to ineptness was alleged to have replied – go fuck yourselves you bunch of fannies – The Gibson felt – in the face of fierce, voluble, and frankly entirely unwarranted condemnation – that his only option was to bale out.

CENSORSHIP BE DAMNED! Individuals must be free to write whatever they wish!

The fact that Gibson was forced to issue a grovelling apology in the latest edition of the Gun, (see pic below) to these anonymous cardigan knitting, minge-munching, latte slurping, cartel of uncultured crones is a sad indictment on society as a whole, and leads me to conclude that we – as a civilisation – are sleepwalking into another Dark Age!


Needless to say I will be wasting no time in applying for the newly created One O’Clock Gun Editorial vacancy. For as Bob Monkhouse used to say – When opportunity comes your way – don’t knock it!

And I shall, of course, endeavour to soldier on with my swashbuckling literary style till the cows come home. All of which leads me nicely to another imminent Ridgwell publication – Jamaica the sequel to cult classic Cuba and which will eventually form the weirdest trilogy this side of Havana. Jamaica is due out in the next few weeks and will be published by the downright sexy and cosmic Pig Ear Press. The Pig is currently holed up in some barren and godforsaken corner of the Mediterranean working like a burglar to get this beautiful boutique book out before Part 11 of the Cross hits the streets. All I can say about the book is that if you’ve never been to Jamaica after reading it you will be on the next flight to Kingston Town!

Here’s one for all you erudite and cock hungry feminists.


It’s all happening. Now lit fiends on the same universal wavelength know that I never ever write about poetry slams – especially sycophantic events occurring in Old Smokey. Slams usually showcase the more repugnant, pathetic, and odious side of humanity and in the main feature bad acting by bad actors, a double combo of revolting pish! However, every now and again the mainstream coughs up a curveball to illuminate the masses. This April an event is taking place that is well worth showing your boat at. It features Jenni – Miss Urchin Belle – Fagan who will be reading from her second novel – The Sunlight Pilgrims – which promises to be the mainstream hit of the year and the International Man of Leisure himself Mr Irvine – Maribou Stork Nightmares – Welsh! And if that ain’t enough to whet your lit fiend appetite the event takes place in that venerable East End boxing institution – York Hall. I’ll be in East London that weekend so if you keep your mince pies peeled you might spot me hanging around some ragged city street corner at 6AM feeling immortal and laughing at the sun.


Now I’m off to Wardie Bay with my Leica’s for another Granton Leviathan spotting mission. In two years I’ve yet to see even a dorsal fin, but I’m told it only appears once every three hundred years so the odds of me spotting the fucker of Edina myth and folklore are lonnnnnnnggggg!


Tugboat Champions – stay focused. Una dos tres – check out this mother! Another mind-bending Super 8MM eyeball buster for you crazy screwballs!