I've been asked to write a guest blog somewhere, elsewhere, on the intersphere.
"Write anything you want! Go mad! No football though," I was telt in terms not uncertain.
Now that's all very well until all manner of ideas start jumbling into my head at stupid o'clock in the morning, forcing me computer-wards when - in some parallel sex life - I'd be doing appalling things to and/or with Zooey Deschanel.
(Yes, her again and no, I won't get over it anytime soon.)
I had a fucking great idea for this guest blog about an hour and a half ago, which coincided with 5.30 in the morning. I got up, brushed my teeth, put on a pot of coffee, checked my email and opened up Word.
If you saw, if you could only SEE the garbled load of nonsensewank that came frightened from my fingers. It was pish.
However, I will persist. You'll have your guest blog, unidentified mysterion, you'll have your guest blog.
Just don't accredit me.