Lazy poo-head

Yes, I know I haven't been as diligent as I could be keeping Casa Del Halfhead all neat and tidy. Instead of a regular waxing, it's been left to grow all hairy in the pubic region. Nasty little tufts sticking out the sides of its underwear, like a wee curly moustache.

She Who Must Read The Blog At Work Every Morning In Order To Find Out What Sort Of Mess She's Going To Come Home To, has a theory about this: I'm too busy worrying about Book Number the Fourth. And there isn't room in my pretty, little head for much else. And while it's nice to be told one's head is 'little and pretty' -- rather than huge and ugly -- it's not a nice thought. My brain should be capable of performing more than one task at a time.

OK, so I'm not a woman, but I have occasionally dressed up as one, and that's got to count for something.

Right now, for example, I'm thinking about cooking something nice for tea. And packing up to fly to metrosexual Paris tomorrow, for the first stop in my gruelling tour of France. Well, OK, it's not a tour as such. More of an overnight stay in Paris followed by a fast train to Lyon for the Thriller Book Fair / Festival thing, but 'tour' makes it sound much more exotic.

Apparently I'm going to be on a panel as well: 18:00 on Friday with Anne Perry, Graham Hurley and Jonathan Trigell. No idea what the panel's about (only found out I was participating yesterday), but I've never let that get in the way of beard-related jokes of an all-out, no-bars-held smut-fest variety.

Salut maintenant! My Eengleesh chooms...

Labels: ,