Sunday, October 03, 2004

Chants of "they stole our taxi, how dare they?" have long since subsided. It's Sunday. My attention is turning back to the 'art' of playwrighting. Naturally, that means popping in two loads of washing, clearing the kitchen of dirty pots and, rather than getting cracking on the life and loves of a family of agoraphobics, generally mucking about. If activity displacement was a career, I'd have long since been promoted to managing director. Still, I must get on. There are a few things on my mind. I just have to commit them to paper. Wish me luck, those of you that have mistakenly arrived here after searching Google for "reviews Vauxhall Astra" and "Wraclow, Poland".
Worrying development and shift to the right: M is insisting on buying a Daily Mail. A Daily Mail! Good grief.

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