Cor, it’s weird here. Kieron finally moved out, to live with the delightful Jane (who will break his soul into crumbs in but instants) and I have this enormous open flat ot myself for three whole weeks.

I can walk around naked and stuff!

However: Kieron has taken all the white goods (fridge, washing machine, cooker, microwave) meaning that I’m living on cold food from a beer-cooler I borrowed from the traitorous DannyG (how dare he leave PCF before me? And look at the eyes in that link, scary, scary desperate eyes), and contemplating the beauties of going commando in about a week’s time which the conservative-with-a-small-c Holly surely will not appreciate…

Also the sod took his computer table back, meaning I’m writing this on the floor. Surrounded by the piles of crap I’d stashed therein. Balls, this place has to be tidy in three weeks.

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GriddleOctopus

There are few harder things in life than introducing yourself, especially in print where mellifluous nuance can turn to indulgent wankery. So. I am definitely a 'writer'. You could also call me an 'artist'. I could probably put the words 'designer' and 'consultant' here too, but they feel crass.

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