Who, In Their Right Mind...

...buys an autobiography of someone less than thirty years old?

That's younger than two of my cousins. Younger than Marcus.

Now, I have no doubt in my mind that in forty years time, if Marcus were to pen his memoirs, they would contain enough choice genius to be worthy of flying off the shelves. I can also see James writing the second volume of How To Succeed In Business Without Really Trying in the same kind of time, and getting himself a bestseller. But not yet - you aren't much older than I am, and I'm damned if I'm going to be interested enough in someone that has barely been around longer than me that I'm going to slip them twenty quid to have them tell me everything that has happened in their rather short life. Seriously guys, grow up.

The remainder of this post continues in rather the same vein. You have been warned.

The entire city of Bath contains precisely no Christmas cards that I am happy to give to my grandmothers. Maybe today's "here today, home tomorrow, hole the day after" society can't understand the concept of "nan" being something that people over the age of ten give a fuck about, but I don't have the creative ability to be able to make a decent card, so am forced to try to pick from the truly appalling selection that card shops round town are able to offer. Similarly, said shops in Bath seem to think that any guy who doesn't want to buy his girlfriend a lurid, off-colour joke card shouldn't be buying from their shelves.

I'm going to have missed sixteen months, all told, through a combination of my own bloody-mindedness and mix-ups in communication. It's not worth it, just to prove a point. It really isn't.

Diced turkey thigh does not a good curry make. This may seem intuitive to those of you who have been cooking for themselves as a regular thing for more than three years, but I thought I'd point it out anyway.

The Christmas LARP involved snowmen, and a Christmas lich that I couldn't have played any worse had I not been present (that was funnier than I managed to be for a start). Once again I managed not to fall over when I should have done, not that it mattered as I wasn't about to hit anyone, but I still managed to effectively cheat. Weak accent, weak characterisation, and not enough thought given to my exit strategy in the event of the party showing up and not appreciating what the character had done. Sorry Carl, had a bad day.
The snowmen were fun, the goblins that couldn't stop singing Christmas carols badly I imagine were reasonably therapeutic to kill, but my highlight of the day had to be the running mosh between my hardcore snowman and Flo as Calamity. Both of us had enough stats to stand up and take it for a while, and it felt like the first good fight I'd had in months.

Emma's characters continue to have people matchmaking for them. She'll be being set up with a gate post next.

The number of people who have said they're willing to monster the twenty four hour has climbed to three, which, as it is one less than the number of encounter requests I've received, doesn't bode well for the number of encounters people can expect.

Emma is drifting off to sleep. I shouldn't have started writing this so late.