!!!! ART SHOW !!! That's fucking amazing. Of course I'd attend. I'd do the whole thing and smarm about talking about how I know the artist. 'Ah yes, her marlot* period' I shall say with a knowing air.

Chaucer sounds delicious, but hates me with a passion. He refuses to be written about. So I spent a lot of time gibbering in the library and staring blankly ahead of me, paralysed by the sheer weight of how much I've to do and how little I've done.

*Don't worry, I just made this word up.