Gah Tim has usurped me in the talking about stuff stakes! For he, cleverly, bith speaketh about stuff and understandeth said stuff, unlike me. I'm reading Scaredy Cat, a book about two serial killers, who are presumably quite scary, written by the bloke that wrote Sleepy Head (about a serial "killer" who puts his victims into a certain type of coma). He's also just written one called "Lazy Bones", whcih presumably will be about a serial killer who (something to do with sleeping - er, again). So, it's good to see that the author is writing solely on the basis of thematic titles, guaranteed to result in the greatest literature. SPEAKING of which (god, this is what blogs are for, jesus, there is So little quality control over what goes on to them) - what drives me MAD is that woman who writes books so OBVIOUSLY based around the title of the book being a "funny" play on words - wait for it - "Bad Heir Day", guffaw, "Fame Fatale", snort, snigger, and Azur Like It - isn't it BRILLIANT??!?! i've just checked her out. She wrote the Full Monty. Christ.
ANYWAY i'm still at work, sitting, at work, at nearly 11pm on a Friday night. How much UNLIKE a character in one of Wendy's books do you think I am? Except i might be that slightly dull character that teh protaganist thinks is sweet who fancies her but they never get it together. Oh hang on, they always DO get together in the end don't they? Like in Rescue Me, featuring that LOvely Woman Who Played The Receptionist in Alan Partridge. Yes, that's it, I'm happy now.
I saw her in real life, in a pub, and she looked right grumpy.