My sister e-mailed me last night from America, where she's currently in the process of moving house, to tell me that one of her removal men played the part of Jock's younger brother in 'Dallas'. He was also apparently a stuntman in 'Robocop' and a former professional wrestler. And now he's in my sister's bathroom, packing up her shampoo and deoderant. So I think it's safe to say his career might have already peaked.

And talking of pathetic non-careers, I successfully finished my current project last night - a 29,000 word novella which dare not speak its name. Having toiled away at this thing since the end of last November (with a brief 4-month break at the beginning of the year to re-evaluate my life and eat bagels), I rushed to get it completed this week, so there's a major drop-off in quality in the last 2000 words, but hey, who cares - it's finished, and I'm off to the seaside.

And as if that wasn't enough in the way of good news, I turned on my TV this morning to find that Trisha was indulging herself in a show entitled 'I Want to Marry a Drug Addict Prostitute'. Eight words which are never far from my lips.