An email from Mr Fluff alerts me to a particularly hilarious installment of the Guardian’s Lost In Showbiz (if you read, isn’t it AMAZING? If you don’t, DO!). As a casual aside he mentions that the description of LiS’s pregnant wife was like Fluff and Fripperies with a blog deadline. Let me set the scene:
“Lost in Showbiz doesn't know how much experience its readers have of heavily pregnant women, but it can remember only too vividly the tsunami of wildly unpredictable hormonally driven emotions that constituted the latter months of its own wife's pregnancy, a period of its life that Lost in Showbiz spent in a permanent state of bafflement and fear, having quickly realised the most innocuous of queries, suggestions or actions could provoke a tearful screaming fit. It recalls with a shudder the evening that the question "this gravy's nice, what's in it?" was inexplicably answered with a lengthy and expletive-laden monologue, delivered at enormous volume centimetres away from Lost in Showbiz's face, in which its multitude of failings as a husband and indeed human being were expounded on in wounding detail. Frankly, by the time its wife was eight months gone, Lost in Showbiz was so terrified of her that it wouldn't turn over the TV without getting written permission first.”
Ouch! Do my fellow bloggers relate?! Do you sometimes stress about fitting everything in, or are you a glorious oasis of organised calm?!?
Read the full piece here.