So that's me back from the Glastonbury Festival and subsequent fun in England. (Where it wasn't a case of My Neighbours Are Hoors, so much as My Neighbours were Washed Away).
Anyway.
The Dead Man (who is looking extremely grey today) just knocked on the door to see if I'm OK because he's not seen me about for a bit!
Makes a change. It's usually me sniffing at the suspicious smell and panicking that his corpse is lying there rotting.
Well... Not that many years ago I lived above a brothel in the Grey Toon in Scotland. Out of a confused mixture of irritation and amusement, I started to blog about it.
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