I’m in a bad mood. Got too much to do in too little time and it’s all my own fault. Plus, superstitious that I am I have to take the effing Christmas tree down before we all turn into pumpkins before midnight. Actually, I’d quite like to turn into a pumpkin – at least I wouldn’t have to do so much except be made into soup or posh ravioli. As you can no doubt guess I am glad the holiday is over – too much loud telly, shouting guests and children (mine and visitors) and too much me shouting ‘stop slamming doors!!!’ to all and sundry.
Am off to Blackpool at 05:45 tomorrow morning – lovely – to start shooting a pilot for a feature about 4 international Elvis impersonators and how they fare in the largest Elvis Contest in Europe to be held this weekend. I’ll upload choice pics of our jaunt next week. Am apparently going to meet Elvis’s ‘hairdresser’. What can he possibly do? The King has been dead since his ‘terminal event on the commode’ in 1977. Weirdo Americans – can’t wait.
Meanwhile, I am dashing around grumpily………………laters.
