Wednesday, 4 June 2008


Woah! Who's this slick guy wiping the latte froth from his chops? I'd like to say that it's just some poor sap embarrassing himself over a drink he couldn't handle. I'd like to say that but I can't.

Say hello to my agent Duncan who kindly bought me lunch today in just about the butchest restaurant in Rochester. Duncan was awoken too early this morning by his new baby, had to travel two hours by train from Brighton to meet me (arriving 20 minutes late) and was clearly in no position to take on a latte in such a ridiculous glass.

And I just bet he left that v. important contract we were discussing on the train when he got back to Brighton.