Anyway, let me tell you the story of Verity and the clowns... or I will once I have first finished writing it and also recovered from the nightmares. Nothing more frightening than clowns. Trust me.
I guess I better be getting back to writing and drinking my tea, but if I drink tea then I will have to pee and that means going to the bathroom alone and mum has happened to place an old clown doll on the bookshelves in the hallway so that little bastard could leap off its perch and latch it's chubby stuffed hands onto either side of my head while it cackles into my ear hissing "it's time to party, bitch" and proceeds to hump my cheek... oh dear. I think it is time to slice that clown up, even if he is a childhood toy. I'm not risking anything tonight.