Pubic Wig Hayes, They Call Me…

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Feel So Close – Calvin Harris

Did I mention I have a new publisher now? Dance. On! Finalising all the ins-and-outs on the Q.T. Done. And. Dumb. Book two a duu! Strict orders last week from the people in charge: Blog off. Book on! At least until I finish this draft. Unless something amazing happens. Obviously. Ergo, time for a quick embargo from the embargo. Brain is tired. Hoping that scribbling out a blogaruu will revive the beast. Eventful two weeks too, to be true. Ish. Pubic Wig Hayes, they call me…

Salt And Racism

Woke up to a text the other day: *A-lister who not only stars in movies but also produces some of the best shows aboot* is interested in your book. Apparently.

Took it with a grain of salt.

Woke up to an email today: Can we arrange a meeting to discuss the possibilites of moving forward with regards *A-lister who not only stars in movies but also produces some of the best shows aboot* and your book?

Still taking grains of salt. Big bowls. Better than a kick in the balls to be true!

Next day. Got booked to headline the Continue Reading »

Wigs, Wine & Weirdos

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Horrendous is the best word I could use to describe the response for the 12 pubs of Christmas. Calling a spade a shovel, there was close to zero interest. Maybe I should’ve explained the concept more when I was sending out the rallying cry. One person thought it was just a spam email. Even after reading it. Didn’t get it. Well done. A lot of people were out of town for Christmas. And a few girls replied saying they’d love to meet for a drink. Sounds lovely. A nice quiet drink. Just the two of us. I don’t even think they read the email. Quiet drink… 12 pubs? Just the two of us… what part of ‘the more the merrier’ was lost in translation? In the end, numbers were down and out. There was my buddy Sharlotta. And there was I. Instead of me having a Royal Rumble type affair with 12 different dates, we went with just picking up stragglers along the way. Continue Reading »