Hello again,

I've been thinking about the best way to approach writing this blog; On one hand, I'd like to add new content every day, while on the other, I don't want to spend too long writing it, otherwise I'll have no chance to ponce about gathering information to publish.

It's a balancing act.

In 2001 I published a small 64-page book entitled 'Things #1' which consisted of a year's worth of edited notebook entries typed up all neat. It was all very stream-of-consciousness, and juxtaposed found material with firsthand content, lies with truth, without ever specifying which was which.

It's a model I'm thinking of adopting here, as it will enable the fast entry of data from notebook to blog, and the lack of attribution will reduce the chance of litigation. So let's see how it works:


Artistically Promiscuous

Archipuncture

Caroline chastised me for calling her 'dear', citing her husband who condescendingly refers to women who work in supermarkets as 'dears'. I countered that I was using the camp meaning of the word.

(What do you think? Is it rude to call somebody 'dear'? Add your comment below.)

Rebecca's undergarments are made by Rigby & Pellor, who also manufacture knickers for Her Majesty The Queen.

I didn't even know The Queen wore knickers.

The solution to everything is eat chocolate and hide.

'Fetishised' is a word, isn't it?

If you take a vestibule out of a train, is it still a vestibule?

Nobody's older that anyone else, we were just all born at different times.

It's always embarrassing when you don't know if the performance has finished or not.

JD Wetherspoon Condiment Reconnaissance.

Perhaps Mark Oaten's fall from grace is all part of some kind of sado-masochistic sexual gratification.

I don't know how to gain pleasure from watching someone walking around.