But when I'd leave early for a gig she'd roll her eyes and say things like "off to do your amateur dramatics" and NO, ACTUALLY, I'm off to drive to the Kent coast to do a middle spot for £60 and die on my arse, Elaine! It's called: the glamorous life of a performer!

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Producer: “Who can we get to represent the views of voters in struggling working class towns?” Researcher: “How about a London born privately educated banjo player who is the son of the billionaire who owns GB News?” Producer: “Perfect!”

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Mildly bothered that the tombstone says “his wife” when he’s not buried next to her *and* there’s not even an open plot next to her. That piece of granite is only ever going to make sense when he happens to be standing nearby.

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first time seeing one of these four-quadrant charts that i actually enjoyed. not sure if it's a "bisexual perfume," but i really enjoy carlen parfums's "butch femme," which smells like pho (the vietnamese soup) substack.com/home/post/p-...

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I guess the main issue with this "trilogy" of shows is that the first two parts were gay, witchy, magicy, campy yet also emotionally devastating fun times centred on women, and for the conclusion they're like, "Here, have a robot."

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