Pixie ears? Really?

Walking through town at 4pm today was kind of disgusting. The streets were full of boozed civil servants. Oh, wait, it’s the teenagers who have a drinking problem, isn’t it? I also ran into only Xmas office party to spend a bit of dough on their staff this year. Unfortunately they’d invested it in kitting out everyone  in T-shirts, clipboards and… pixie ears. Other cities have parkour, we have scavenger hunts. Something wasn’t quite right – the organizers were crossly huddled in the street, wearing purple shirts. I felt like grabbing them and screaming “Why are these people paying you to humiliate them? How do I get in on this racket?”

I visited Graphic to see how the Jitterati book was selling. They’d sold out, and have five customer orders, which is pretty good when you consider they rarely sell five copies of a particular title in a year.

My ex-flatmate Emma is visiting – or, as I now distinguish her, the tidy one.

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