There is nothing

more depressing than looking at your own page every day to see that it has not changed. The little Brownies have not sorted it out through the night. Lazy, shiftless elfin fuckers.



Update: Cue the “Murder She Wrote” theme tune…Have now done 54 pages (60 behind schedule) and even though I says it myself, it is 54 pages of the crappiest shit what I’ve ever read so it is.
Am I bovvered? Do I look bovvered? Yeahbut do I look bovvered?

Book writing. What a lot of old fucking wank. I’ve got a life to live. Before it’s too late.

The pin the shell the door the wind…

I googled that, Mr Smartypants Baker, only to remember the comments thing. You’ll cut yourself one day, I swear to God you will.

WHERE’S FRITZ?

I found the missing episode. I was sure I posted it last Monday. I should have left it alone but I messed about with it, pissed all over it I have.

Confession: I’ve thought up another, better story featuring you all. I can’t help it!
I can’t, I tells ‘ee!
The girls are right! I can’t FINISH! Can’t close the deal.

For the Vaporiser.