Saturday of moustaches
Whilst I don’t appear to be publishing any posts here — I bet you now regret doubting that whole series of entries in which I threatened to give up writing, don’t you? — I’m not above indulging in acts of egocentric self-publicity, especially when I have stupid numbers of people arriving here as a result of various searches for the twelve days of Christmas. Hello, by the way, if you are one of those people; I’m sorry to disappoint you.
Gosh, a digression already. I am clearly out of practice at this writing lark. Anyone would think that I have had a couple of glasses of wine and am listening to Christmas music. Not that I am, of course. That would destroy the intense and serious mystique which I have so strenuously built up around my online persona.
Anyway, where was I? Oh yes. An interview.

I have done an interview. Via email, of course, in the best internet fashion that is eminently suited to people who couldn’t do such ridiculous things face to face. Don’t worry, I wasn’t approached to do it due to my fame and notoriety. No, I volunteered in a moment of madness. The questions were put to me by the ridiculously talented Chris Killen, and you can read it on his blog, Day of Moustaches.
I do not have a moustache, incidentally. It is not a moustache fetishist’s blog. Perish the thought. The closest I get to a moustache is not very close at all: I sometimes cultivate oddly-shaped stubble. Will that do?
That’s all, then. I am going back to hiating now, but I do recommend reading the interview right away, even if it’s only to discover what I would do about the problem of common or garden ceiling mould.
Happy Christmas. May all your pine needles be prickly ones.