My apologies, kiddies.

The last two weeks is a bit of a blur.

I remember some of my birthday, and then I woke up ten days later next to some canal in Amsterdam, half naked, wrapped in a copy of the last edition of the News of the World and clutching a large clump of bright red curly hair in my hand. Something important happened. Now I just have to remember what the fuck it was.

Thankfully, I’ve managed to check into the Dylan and found a coffeeshop that delivers, and as soon as I’m able to wake up Anouska Hempel and get her out of my bath, I’ll tell all.

Much love,


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