Negotiations were successfully concluded for marketing the underpantaclava worldwide. That means I 'll be able to drop the agency for hotboy's literary output, which wasn't selling well anyway. Mainly because his books have too much buddhism and not enough sex. I had been looking forward to reading the manuscript of his new book Bending Over, in my hotel room. Until I realised it's all about yoga positions. Surely there's a law against misleading titles?
Mackerel Sinus gave permission for me to use one of his HNT art shots as a marital aid. And I found out that he is related to another HNTer, Lelly, but they live at opposite ends of the world and haven't met in 35 years. HNT helps families stay in touch! Even the church would surely approve.
Keda suggested, in the nicest possible way, that I'm a total wack-job. Just because I (allegedly) wrote her a letter as Sir David Attenborough, and left comments under the nom-de-plume of Alec McClochendichter! Actually, it probably wasn't just that - there's also my body of work which kind of speaks for itself.
Dudley Doright is a famous person who has the good fortune to look like me.
I scored an invitation to California, where the pantaclava market hasn't even begun to take off.
I persuaded the McDonald Institute to pay my expenses to a Photo Imaging conference, so this weekend I'm in Sydney. The expo attached to the conference has exhibits from all the big photographic companies, and each one has about 10 or 20 photo-printing machines which you can use for free. Fortunately, I've brought all my HNT and other snaps with me on memory card, so I've been printimg off blow-ups of ukulele and banana nudes. What will the UnHeard Of customs people say is they open my suitcase when I arrive back?
I'll be stuck in the hotel room on my own tonight, far from my partner. But there's a TV program on, about the World Cup team I have supported for decades (France). I'll be reliving their unfair defeat in the 1982 semi-final (on penalties!) by Germany. Thank goodness I had the good sense to bring some home brew to the hotel and chill it in the minibar. My employers don't cover alcoholic expenses.
Finally, this week I read one of the best bits of news in a long time. Research proves that men who masturbate 5 times a week are 30% less likely to get prostate cancer. So back at the hotel tonight I'll be doing my bit for men's health. What a fortunate creature I am!
