I have had many exciting novel type things going on recently. I went to London. I admired the well organised books in the Arcadia office. I looked at book covers. I ate an Octopus leg in a sushi bar. It arrived on a bowl that rode on a conveyor belt. I made bad jokes about the generation game. I ate the Octopus Leg (chew and chew and nothing happened, so down in one with the suckers hanging onto my throat for dear life) in the name of research for book two. Then I ate some squid. Actually raw. It was all right, actually. I’m not sure if Octopus Leg was raw. It was white on the cut part, and purple on the outside. Please advise.
I have written 6067 words in three days. My head hurts.
I have not got my rebate from BT yet. I am gathering a party to wreak revenge.