I’m so grateful for all the messages expressing deep concern that I stopped blogging precisely when coronavirus was at the height of its UK rampage. Oh no, wait, I’m not, because THERE WEREN’T ANY MESSAGES.
None of you even checked if I had enough toilet paper. Shame on you.
It’s almost as though I don’t have adoring fans who spend all day on my blog, hitting F5 in the desperate hope that I will impart some new words of wisdom. But I know that can’t be right. My mum says I’m brilliant and everyone wants to be my friend, and the only reason nobody comes to my parties is they’re intimidated by how great I am. She wouldn’t lie, would she?
Anyway, now that Pitch Wars mentors have been announced, I know potential mentees are going to be looking around my blog to get an idea of what I like to read, and handily enough most of my recent posts are book reviews. Perfect, right?
I hope it’s obvious, but I would like to point out that my reviews, while erudite and insightful (e.g. “So, wow, Romans liked cock, hey?”), are not entirely serious. I slave and I slave on this blog to make my readers laugh. Of course, now that I know none of them actually care if I’m ALIVE OR DEAD, going forward I will only be blogging about serious matters such as dinosaurs and why children are awful.
Just don’t take anything here too seriously. Ditto my Twitter. And my face. I was born this way, nothing I can do about it.
P.S. I’m so excited to read all your entries! And that bit is serious. Promise.