Fuck all

Of course I've done fuck all on the novel. What novel? Does it even exist? Only in my cunting mind, I suppose.

Instead I find myself addicted to Masterchef and organising my life around it like a middle aged loss. What a complete bender.

Well, that's enough self-flagellation for one day. Although, I'm up for you, dear one reader, to peep me on my blog, slip into your dominatrix avatar and cyber-attach pegs to my knackers and beat my ass with a bluderbuss rammed with anal beads. Go on, I dare you.

Please.