Consider this an "away" message... Tomorrow I am going to Bournemouth at SIX in the morning. I have to look for a house. Well, actually I'm looking at nine houses. But I'm sure they all have merits. I have to weigh up the pros and cons like Kirsty and Phil, whilst making sound, practical and pragmatic decisions based on vacancy, decor and development potential Sarah Beeny style. I even have an itinery. They are Gods, people: ignore their housing advice at your peril!
In addition, I'm hoping to find a house that is 5 mins' walk from an off licence, kebab shop, school, nursery, supermarket, play park and library. By my calculations, this will mean I will save approximately seven million hours' of my time a year in extra walking. If I could also live near Danny Stack that would also be helpful, since I intend to suck up his success next Rogue-style now I have sucked James Moran dry*. Yes, that's right people. You heard it here first: I've had to step in to write James' Dr. Who. It was very sad, some say he couldn't take the pressure or excitement, but I don't believe it - however he just couldn't stop clawing at his face: they say it'll be nine grafts to get him looking like his old self... Get better soon Jimbo. And don't worry: it's the least I could do. I know you've converted to Buddhism and won't want the money anyway.
So nine houses, two schools, one day. It's going to be a bitch. Just gotta focus. **Circle of Light to the power of a million!**
So... Talk amongst yourselves. Anyone going to Adrian Mead's seminar, let me know. I will be going with no less than 15 Bang2write Goodie Bags! (Well I say that, they're actually done up with cling film: tried to order some little party bags and the company said I had to have 1000!!) But anyway, if you see me there, stop me and get one. A goodie bag that is. You dirty buggers.
* I also have my eye on Dom Carver... He needn't think he's getting into that BBC Writers' Academy without me, even if I have to murder him and wear his skin to get in!