i didn’t leave the book proofs at customs, they were confiscated. the security official mumbled something about “…profanity laced dialogue needing to be referred to the Office of Obscene Publications”

if anyone is wondering why i’m still friends with Paul after enduring such vitriol, it’s because the insults weren’t proper insults – at least i don’t think they were. they felt more like marshmallow coated barbs.

apparently drinking Orange juice instead of vodka in the middle of the day makes me a c**t. that sort of thing.

i would have minded a lot more if the book hadn’t been so dam funny. won’t be letting my mum read it though.