It’s party time! (Well, in December…)

Brexit be damned! I’ve decided that, deal or no deal, I’m having a kids’ Christmas party for my daughter this year. So I’m stockpiling Prosecco (for the adults – don’t worry, my eight-year-old isn’t a miniature alkie). Before October 31st, I’ll buy some party snacks that won’t be out-of-date by December, and will send out the invitations to my friends with kids next month.

I haven’t had a party since my do for the eight-year-old last Christmas. I used to have fun birthday parties in my twenties, but they kind of fell by the wayside. However, I’m definitely also having a big celebration next year whatever happens with Brexit, as I’m turning 40. In the same month, my friend John is turning 70, so we’re going to throw a party called ‘Ariane and John turn 110!’

I hope it’s as much fun as my 27th birthday party back in 2007, which was a 1980s party in my tiny one-bedroom flat in Camden. Here was the invitation, designed by ultimate polymath Graham Nunn, who would also go on to design the Atheist Bus Campaign:

Ariane's 80s Birthday Party edited.gif

My flat was literally about 300 square feet of space across two rooms and two half-rooms, but I managed to pack in 12 friends. Here are some of them:

MM & M.jpg
Graham with the brilliant quiz scoreboard he’d created,
The-Madonna-and-Michael-Jackson-Tug-of-War!

Charlie & Ariane.jpgMe and my writer friend Charlie, who went on to create the amazing series Black Mirror. Is my dress not the most 1980s thing you’ve ever seen?!

Ariane and BenMe and my then-boyfriend Ben, rocking the 1980s theme with his Duran Duran t-shirt.

Ben C and Ariane.jpgMe and another Ben (I collect them). This Ben is now a comedy producer at BBC Studios.

Catie, Charlie, Zarina.jpg
My friend Catie, who went on to be my flatmate for two years, and then married her comedian boyfriend Richard Herring; Charlie; and my then-flatmate Zarina Liew, who I used to produce cartoons with for the Times Educational Supplement.

Graham and Mark.jpg
My lovely friend Mark White with my best friend Graham Nunn, who would go on to be my husband, and then my ex-husband, and is now my best friend again. He’s paying homage to the 1980s theme with his Mummra-from-Thundercats t-shirt.

Friends at party.jpgEverybody holding up their name badges. Each name badge had three
statements on – two true, one false. You had to guess which the false one was.
The game helped break the ice, as a lot of my friends didn’t know each other.

Ben & Hannah.jpgBen and my friend Hannah Forbes Black, who is now a multimedia artist.

John and Zarina.jpgZarina and her boyfriend John, whose surname escapes me because I am now very old.

Matt, Ben, Mark and me.jpgPlaying another game in teams. Everyone sitting on my bed as there was no space!

I can’t remember who won the prize for Best 80s Costume. On the evidence of these photos, it should really have been me, as I don’t think anyone else pulled out all the stops! You can’t award yourself a prize though. I don’t remember that much about the party, which is possibly a sure sign that it was a good one, but has probably got more to do with it being 12 years on… Anyhow, it’s great to still have the photos, though it also makes me feel ancient.

Back then, I wasn’t remotely pregnant, and now this small creature is eight years old:

Lily raincoat.jpg

The party I’ll have for her in December won’t be cool and fun in the same way as my 27th, but Santa (aka my good friend John Fleming) will turn up with gifts, and my daughter will be excited (although she doesn’t actually believe in Santa any more) and suddenly I’ll have something in my eye. I can’t wait.

santa.JPG

THE GREAT WEIGHT LOSS CHALLENGE!

Day 40

Me: 12st 5.4lbs (total loss in 40 days: 8.8lbs)

John: 14st 6lbs (total loss in 40 days: 1.5lbs)

It’s fair to say that John and I aren’t doing too well on this diet. There’s still time to turn it around though!

This post has been made possible by my awesome Patreon supporters Peter Weilgony, Ricky Steer, Marc Alexander, Chris Birkett, John Fleming, Mary Clarke, Matthew Sylvester, Brian Engler, Jack Scanlan, Dave Nattriss, Musical Comedy Guide, Mark White, Lucy Spencer, Shane Jarvis, Graham Nunn, Emily Hill and Marcus P Knight.

They receive a whole host of exciting rewards in addition to this credit, including my secret never-published fiction and top secret photos! If you enjoyed this post, please support me on Patreon.

Rewards start from just $1 a month for my weekly Patreon email. It’s like this blog, but I’m even more open in it (if you can imagine that!)

My former life as a cartoon writer

In 2006, when I was 25, my flatmate Zarina Liew was a very talented aspiring illustrator, and as two Asian girls, she and I decided to produce a range of greeting cards for girls with the tongue-in-cheek name Love You Long Time. The venture was emphatically not a success, and I think I lost around £4,000 altogether trying to get it off the ground. It was the first of my three failing businesses. (Remind me never to start a business again!)

BeautifulThing

Then my lovely journalist friend Michael Shaw put a cartoon strip we created forward for a slot in his newspaper, the Times Education Supplement. Our bid was successful, and our cartoon All-Time High ran for six months in the magazine that came with the paper. We used the weekly £150 payment to replenish the £4,000 savings I’d lost on the greeting card business!

Each week, I would script the cartoon and send it to Zarina, and she would produce the strip. Here’s my favourite of our efforts:

TES - 'Definitions'.png

This next strip was based on my experiences at school, as teachers’ default positions seem to be that kids have a great relationship with their parents:

TES - 'Mother's Day'.png

And here’s another one I quite liked:

TES - 'Mendacity'.png

I really enjoyed scripting All-Time High, but the editor at the TES who was responsible for commissioning it (who has now left the paper) wanted to exert more and more control over it. At first everything was fine – we’d just deliver the cartoons each week – but then she wanted to see the scripts before they were inked; next she wanted to agree the topics before they went to script stage; finally she was vetoing everything I suggested. Eventually it became impossible to continue, and I quit in fury, thinking she was being thoroughly unreasonable.

Having been a journalist for many years now, I’ve yet to encounter this kind of control freakery again, so I think I was probably right. It’s a shame though, as it was a fun gig and I would have liked to carry on.

I can’t draw like Zarina, but I dabble from time to time. I wrote a little children’s book which never got published, about a hippo who wanted to be a supermodel, and I drew this illustration as part of it:

hetty.jpg

Here was the text:

Hetty the hippo and the supermodel dream

As Hetty the hippo
Lay dreaming in bed
A wonderful vision
Swam into her head

Of walking a runway
In beautiful clothes
Fine frocks on her figure
High heels on her toes

She leapt out of bed then
To tell all the land
About her ambition
So epic and grand

“A famed supermodel’s
What I want to be!”
Brave Hetty confided
To friends over tea

Alas, she was faced
With both laughter and scorn
At first, Rae the rhino
Sighed, tossing her horn

“What makes you think
You could strut like a star?
A massive fat hippo
Is all that you are!”

“She’s right!” chimed Pandora
The petulant pig
“Like me, you can’t model
We’re both much too big!”

“I won’t let that stop me!”
Het cried, undeterred
“Who cares what my size is?
That’s truly absurd!”

“We care,” hissed Camilla
The sleek and mean cat
“The whole of the world thinks
You’re simply too fat!”

Poor Hetty felt crushed
And her dream now seemed bleak
A single large tear
Made its way down her cheek

She stumbled away
Through the forests and streams
Vowing to give up
Her big fashion dreams

“Hey,” came a voice
“I don’t know who you are,
But your figure’s amazing
I’ll make you a star!”

Hetty turned round
And a jackal stood there
“I’m Jen,” she explained
“What great curves! What good hair!”

“But there’s no time to waste
Let’s not stand here and talk
My show’s in an hour
Please say that you’ll walk?”

Hetty was thrilled
Soon she donned fancy clothes
Sashayed down the runway
And strutted and posed

“This is the life!”
Hetty smiled, “It’s a doddle!”
For Hetty the hippo
Was finally a model.

THE GREAT WEIGHT LOSS CHALLENGE!

Day 39

Me: 12st 5.4lbs (total loss in 39 days: 8.8lbs)

Back on the wagon today.

John: 14st 5.5lbs (total loss in 39 days: 2lbs)

John is plugging another of his books.

This post has been made possible by my awesome Patreon supporters Peter Weilgony, Ricky Steer, Marc Alexander, Chris Birkett, John Fleming, Mary Clarke, Matthew Sylvester, Brian Engler, Jack Scanlan, Dave Nattriss, Musical Comedy Guide, Mark White, Lucy Spencer, Shane Jarvis, Graham Nunn, Emily Hill and Marcus P Knight.

They receive a whole host of exciting rewards in addition to this credit, including my secret never-published fiction and top secret photos! If you enjoyed this post, please support me on Patreon.

Rewards start from just $1 a month for my weekly Patreon email. It’s like this blog, but I’m even more open in it (if you can imagine that!)

What the hell I do all day

Right now I don’t have a job. I haven’t had a job since our whole digital department was made redundant in February, and I miss the sense of purpose it gave me. If you have a job, hold onto it with your mucky paws and dig your grubby fingernails in and don’t let it go, because being unemployed is shit.

I had a job interview two weeks ago about a permanent writing job in Switzerland. I had my hair and nails done, wore my smartest clothes and managed not to joke that it was the ‘Swiss role’. I thought the interview went well, but the agency never contacted me again. I only found out I hadn’t got the position through receiving an alert for the relisted job. Bang goes my plan for escaping Brexit!

cake-2201846_1920.jpg

Being ‘freelance’ sucks, but I don’t just sit on my arse all day. No: I fill my time with a delightful cornucopia of activities. These generally include:

1. Calling my eight-year-old daughter. She’s currently on holiday with her dad. It is manifestly unjust that she gets a summer holiday and I don’t, but I love her to infinity, so it’s fine. Her telephone manner is a mixture of bored, disdainful and dutiful, and when she says ‘Love you!’ it actually means ‘I want to get off the phone now!’. I miss her so desperately my heart is aching from nine days without her. Roll on Monday.

Lily teeth gap

2. Going to the gym. It’s literally around the corner, but it takes me hours to motivate myself into going, because exercise is painful and wrong. The gym is great for people-watching though, and inspired me to write this, so it’s not all bad.

3. Writing blogs. These are getting trickier as I run out of anecdotes! This is day 37 of this blog, and unless I fill it with traumatic stuff, it’s going to be difficult to continue in this vein for much longer. I have loads of juicy celebrity stories but (a) I’d probably get sued, and (b) I’d never work in this town again (not that I’m really working now, but you get me). This is why you’re reading about what I do all day, not the time I had hot sex with Alan Titchmarsh and his selection of reappropriated gardening equipment. (This is a joke!)

4. Emailing my friends and patrons (same thing really). Rik is my top-tier patron so that’s why I started sending him lots of emails, but I reckon I would now anyway as he’s great. He’s incredibly funny and produced this selection of inappropriate children’s book ideas (below), plus he very kindly sent me a Paperchase gift card when I was feeling down about the Swiss role. I’m lucky to have him.

Rik's sketches.JPG
5. Writing HOW TO LIVE TO 100, my next book. I’m co-writing it with David Conrad, a consultant in public health, so he sends me big chunks of scientific research and I add jokes and format them into entertaining and funny chapters. We’re just over halfway through, and it’s exciting seeing the book take shape.

6. Re-labelling my Demerara sugar jars, because I kept opening them and snacking.

sugar

THE GREAT WEIGHT LOSS CHALLENGE!

Day 32

Me: 12st 5.4lbs (total loss in 32 days: 8.8lbs)

I think my scales are stuck.

John: 14st 4.75lbs (total loss in 32 days: 2.75lbs)

John is promoting his comedy industry night The Grouchy Club.

This post has been made possible by my awesome Patreon supporters Ricky Steer, Marc Alexander, Chris Birkett, John Fleming, Mary Clarke, Matthew Sylvester, Brian Engler, Jack Scanlan, Dave Nattriss, Musical Comedy Guide, Mark White, Lucy Spencer, Shane Jarvis, Graham Nunn, Emily Hill and Marcus P Knight.

They receive a whole host of exciting rewards in addition to this credit, including my secret never-published fiction and top secret photos! If you enjoyed this post, please support me on Patreon. 

Rewards start from just $1 a month, which is 85p in real money and gets you access to my weekly Patreon email. It’s like this blog, but EVEN BETTER!

 

 

My friendship with the Atheist Bus Campaign font creator

My friend Graham is a wonderful man – kind, funny and endlessly patient. But when he was younger, he had one flaw, which was using other people’s work without permission or payment. He once got in trouble with Getty Images for taking one of their photos from Google Images and using it for his company’s website. And when he came to design the Atheist Bus Campaign posters, he used the font without paying for it.

And so, one day in 2009, I got a message from an American man from Denver, Colorado called S. John Ross. He had created the font we’d used, Dirty Headline, and told me ‘The font was free for private use only. The side of a bus is not very private!’

ABC JG Banner Final.JPG

Now, approximately 75% of Americans are religious. I could have had the misfortune to have unknowingly misused the font of a Christian fundamentalist, and been sued for a pretty penny as a result – after all, this font had been used in campaigns in 13 different countries around the world, as well as being plastered all over the national and international press and endless Atheist Bus Campaign merchandise!

Luckily, S. John Ross was a very reasonable and generous man, and described himself as an ‘agnostic humanist’. I was skint as I’d been editing a charity book called The Atheist’s Guide to Christmas for free for six months. At my request, the publisher HarperCollins (who were using the font on the front of the book) paid S. John £500 for the privilege. I remember his invoice to them featuring the Bill and Ted quote ‘Be excellent to each other.’

atheists-guide

S. John and I kept emailing, giant six-page-long emails (if emails had pages), and soon became firm friends. He told me how much he loved his wife, Sandra, and I told him I wished I could find someone who would feel the same way about me as he did for her. We wrote about all kinds of things, one of which was my fear of flying, as the Sunday Times wanted me to go up in a tiny two-seater Cessna to cure my fear of planes.

I told S. John that Anaïs Nin once said, “Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one’s courage”, and that this quote was helping me. In response, he wrote me a wonderful email which used another Anaïs Nin quote: “And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.” He then added: ‘That’s a day to seek out, to strive for.’

So when I was asked to take part in a photography project, holding a quote that meant a lot to me, I used S. John’s. I also went up in the Cessna, clutching a sweaty printout of S. John’s email, and had my article about the experience published in the Sunday Times’ Travel section a few weeks later. It was my first ever article for them.

Me holding S John Ross quote 2

Sadly, S. John and I stopped writing around six months later. It was my fault: I was having a major nervous breakdown and just stopped emailing him without any warning or explanation. He was very hurt, but I hope he knows now that my mental illness was the true reason and not an excuse.

These days, we keep up with each other on Twitter. He’s at @SJohnRoss and is a super-smart and talented guy – as well as creating numerous fonts (which is no mean feat) he also makes role-playing games for a living.

I feel lucky to count him as a friend – and Sandra is a very lucky lady.

Me holding S John Ross quote.JPG

THE GREAT WEIGHT LOSS CHALLENGE!

Day 30

Me: 12st 5.4lbs (total loss in 30 days: 8.8lbs)

I am truly plateauing.

John: 14st 4.5lbs (total loss in 30 days: 3lbs)

This post has been made possible by my awesome Patreon supporters Ricky Steer, Marc Alexander, Chris Birkett, John Fleming, Mary Clarke, Matthew Sylvester, Brian Engler, Jack Scanlan, Dave Nattriss, Musical Comedy Guide, Mark White, Lucy Spencer, Shane Jarvis, Graham Nunn, Emily Hill and Marcus P Knight.

They receive a whole host of exciting rewards in addition to this credit, including my secret never-published fiction and top secret photos! If you enjoyed this post, please support me on Patreon. 

Rewards start from just $1 a month, which is 85p in real money and gets you access to my weekly Patreon email. It’s like this blog, but EVEN BETTER!

The rudest letter I ever wrote

It was 1997, and I was 16 years old. Despite having an on-off boyfriend, I was very lonely. Then I stumbled across a now-defunct music magazine called Select, which had a contact ads section at the back. The pages weren’t exactly lonely hearts, though I’m sure that was on the minds of numerous advertisers, but they were an opportunity for geeky outcasts to meet other misfits.

In January of that year, a man called Graham placed an ad that said ‘Adventurous and insatiable male hermit, 19, requires intelligent corespondents [sic] to astound, bewilder, tantalise and bore. Self-important wordy sarcastic types encouraged.’ (The spelling mistake was the magazine’s, but I didn’t know that.) Graham seemed smart and interesting, so I wrote him a rather combative letter, trying to be sarcastic while simultaneously taking his ad entirely seriously. The one-page letter was typed on my parents’ word processor.

Intro.png

I’m cringing just reading it now! Back then, my personality was an odd combination of zero self-esteem, due to being abused physically and emotionally at home and bullied all the way through school; and self-confidence, having recently discovered that a lot of men wanted to have sex with me. At times, when I thought about my life to date, I felt suicidal – and, at that age, I was still self-harming and had only just stopped being anorexic.

Graham wrote a caustic reply in response to my opening gambit:

Graham's intro

Touché! So started a friendship that would last from then until the present day, off and on. Looking back, Graham’s letters were much more readable and mature than mine, but then I guess he was more than three years older.

However, I may have been an embarrassingly gauche and daft correspondent, but I certainly wasn’t boring. I was sure I had nothing to offer in terms of my personality, so tried to convince Graham I was irresistible – as I believed this was the only reason a man could ever be interested in me. In my first letter, I told him ‘I spend my days straddling naked men’. He retorted, ‘You didn’t say whether or not the naked men were conscious.’

In another letter, I naughtily tried to turn him on:

Sex.png

The rest of the letter is so racy and smutty that Graham asked last night, ‘Are you sure you want it out there if you’re applying for jobs? It’s X-rated!’ So I will save it for the memoir.

Back in 1997, Graham totally refused to take the bait and reciprocate. He said later that he had no idea what to make of me! He was much more withdrawn, reserved and measured than I was (then again so was pretty much everyone, including Julian Clary).

But our friendship progressed. Graham eventually sent me a perfectly attractive if rather sullen photo of himself:

Graham.png

However, he was extremely self-deprecating about his appearance, and I tried to reassure him:

Optician.png

Reading back through the letters I sent him, though there were jokes in, I was also incredibly depressed. I was still focused on self-harming:

Self-harming.png

And I couldn’t stop feeling sad and angry about my childhood:

Parents.png

But having a good friend to write to helped ease my pain very slightly, and he’s still there for me 22 years on.

Az-'n'-Graz.jpg

THE GREAT WEIGHT LOSS CHALLENGE!

Day 29

Me: 12st 5.4lbs (total loss in 29 days: 8.8lbs)

God I can’t wait to be slim again!

John: 14st 3.5lbs (total loss in 29 days: 4lbs)

This post has been made possible by my awesome Patreon supporters Ricky Steer, Marc Alexander, Chris Birkett, John Fleming, Mary Clarke, Matthew Sylvester, Brian Engler, Jack Scanlan, Dave Nattriss, Musical Comedy Guide, Mark White, Lucy Spencer, Shane Jarvis, Graham Nunn, Emily Hill and Marcus P Knight.

They receive a whole host of exciting rewards in addition to this credit, including my secret never-published fiction and top secret photos! If you enjoyed this post, please support me on Patreon. 

Rewards start from just $1 a month, which is 85p in real money and gets you access to my weekly Patreon email. It’s like this blog, but EVEN BETTER!

The first time I went clubbing

When I was 14, I got my first ever boyfriend. We weren’t serious, at least not compared to my long-term relationship with the next boyfriend I had, which lasted on and off from ages 15 to 22.

My first boyfriend was 19 years old, and was my best friend’s boyfriend’s best friend. (You might need to read that sentence a few times.) We only dated for a few months, and I thought I was in love, but in retrospect I wasn’t.

My boyfriend had a car and a job, which I thought was amazing. No one else I knew had a car or a job! (Except for my parents and other very old people.) The girls at school teased me, saying I’d invented an imaginary boyfriend, but I didn’t care. My boyfriend was real, he was mine and he had a car and a job, so they could all go sit on a shitty stick and swivel.

One day, my boyfriend (I’ll call him Dean, as that was not his name), my best friend Anna and her boyfriend Keith all went to a club. I was positively fizzing with excitement. A club! I’d heard about clubs and clubbing from the girls at school.

‘I bet you’ve never been to a club,’ they’d say to me loftily. ‘I bet you don’t even know what one is.’

‘Shut up! I do so know what one is,’ I’d retort, even though I didn’t really.

But now, for the first time, I was going to a real proper nightclub. It was called The Odyssey, and was at the end of Eastbourne Pier in East Sussex, where Anna, Keith and Dean all lived.

The only Odyssey I’d ever heard of was the one we’d studied in Classical Civilisation at school. The name conjured up images of adventure, daring deeds and excitement. I couldn’t wait to find out what it was all about.

me-leather-jacket.png[At 18, the age the bouncers presumably thought I was.]

So I dressed up to the nines, plastered my face with makeup and walked into The Odyssey with the others. I couldn’t quite believe the bouncers had let me in.

The Odyssey, it turned out, was dimly lit inside. There was some thumping music playing, and lots of girls standing around in tiny dresses and high heels, while the guys were wearing shirts and smart jeans. We stood by the bar. The guys I was with drank beer, and I drank orange juice (I was never much of a drinker, especially not at 14).

‘When’s it going to start?’ I shouted to Dean, over the pumping music. It seemed unnecessarily loud and prohibitive to conversation.

Dean looked at his watch. ‘It’s not even 10pm,’ he shouted back. ‘It’ll get busier and there’ll be a lot more people by 11pm.’

‘And then it’ll start?’ I yelled.

He looked puzzled. ‘Well, it’ll get busier.’

‘Yeah,’ I shouted, confused, ‘but then what happens?’

He frowned. ‘People will start dancing.’

I stared at him in total disillusionment and indignance, the penny finally dropping: ‘So you mean it’s just a disco with alcohol?!’

He laughed: ‘Yeah.’

I couldn’t believe it. All that hype at school about nightclubs, and they were nothing more than discos! As for the ‘Odyssey’, I thought, Homer would have been appalled that his epic poem had been bastardised in such a prosaic way.

I sighed. ‘When can I go home?’

me-polaroid[Me, aged 18.]

THE GREAT WEIGHT LOSS CHALLENGE!

Day 23

Me: 12st 6.6lbs (total loss in 23 days: 7.6lbs)

I was thrilled to receive these two awards last night at Slimming World! Slimmer of the Week is a big achievement. I also got my 1 stone award (I’ve lost 2 stone this year, one of them with Slimming World).

John: 14st 3.75lbs (total loss in 23 days: 3.75lbs)

Not only is he putting on weight but the toenail is back!

This post has been made possible by my awesome Patreon supporters Ricky Steer, Chris Birkett, John Fleming, Mary Clarke, Matthew Sylvester, Brian Engler, Jack Scanlan, Dave Nattriss, Musical Comedy Guide, Mark White, Lucy Spencer, Shane Jarvis, Graham Nunn, Emily Hill and Marcus P Knight.

They receive a whole host of exciting rewards in addition to this credit, including my secret never-published fiction and top secret photos! If you enjoyed this post, please support me on Patreon. 

Rewards start from just $1 a month, which is 85p in real money and gets you access to my weekly Patreon email (which is just 20p a week). It’s like this blog, but EVEN BETTER!

 

 

 

With a little help from my friends

I only have three close friends: Graham (my best friend since 1997, after he placed a contact ad in Select magazine and I answered – and he’s now my ex-husband too); John Bon Jovial (a good friend since he wrote a blog about my comedy music album in 2014); and Annabel (we worked on Big Brother together in 2007-2008).

Sadly I don’t see Annabel much, as she’s an exec producer on The Great British Bakeoff so is super-busy. And I don’t see Graham much either, as he lives in a tiny remote village in Suffolk. But I see John at least once a week, which is great. Here he is being Jesus:

John-loaf

And here he is as a little boy. Awww!

John little

Anyhow, yesterday both Graham and John came round for a late birthday celebration. Graham had crafted me a ‘rubbish present’ – a wooden container for my very pretentious bin! I didn’t have a bin in the office, so now I do. He is very good with his hands (fnarr). No, seriously – he can pretty much do anything he puts his mind to. Here is the bin:

bin.jpg

And here he is wearing a pair of elf ears from my Christmas elf outfit (he is desperate for me to point out that these aren’t his real ears!)

Graham-elf-ears

Yesterday my lodger moved out, so I now have a lot more space (I’m not replacing her). Graham and John got everything down from the loft, opened all the boxes, put away their contents, cut up the boxes, unpacked my new mattress, and moved all the very unwieldy mattresses into different rooms. Then John ferried my daughter across London to a kids’ birthday party, and Graham painted the window sills and helped me put away all my clothes from the loft.

I think this is the very definition of true friendship: your friends help you and you help them, even when it means doing boring stuff, or travelling a long way, or letting you put a picture of them with elf ears on your blog.

DAILY STATS

Like me, John wants to lose some weight, so we’re starting a competition today – fastest to lose three stone. The winner takes the other one out to a posh restaurant for dinner! So here are our starting weights:

Me: 13st 0.2lbs (waist 36″, bust 43″)

John: 14st 7.5lbs

On your marks, get set, GO!

This post has been made possible by my Patreon supporters Chris Birkett, John Fleming, Mary Clarke, Matthew Sylvester, Brian Engler, Jack Scanlan, Dave Nattriss, Lucy Spencer, Mark White, Shane Jarvis, Emily Hill and Marcus P Knight.

They receive a whole host of amazing rewards in addition to this credit, including my secret never-published fiction and top secret photos! Please support me on Patreon.