The Bitch is Back

You know, it would be unfair to call someone a cunt when you’ve never met them. But the funny thing about unfair is, unfair rarely ever means inaccurate.

And hello,

welcome to your nightmare.

WELL SAID, SIR. WELL SAID.

I’ve been catching up on Hannibal lately. And I don’t care what went wrong in your life, I’m sure there have been plenty, but you could do one thing right; watch Hannibal. Start now. Go.

Updates!

Ruan’s got his own page now because I finally found a face for my beach bum stoner boy. Yay. Just don’t get too attached because I will change it when he’s old enough to grow beard or when his chest hair flourishes, whichever comes first.

Alethea’s doing quite well with her band (SOMEBODY STILL OWES ME THE BAND BANNER), never been better as a matter of fact (SOMEBODY STILL OWES ME THE BAND BANNER), #5 Jazz (SOMEBODY STILL OWES ME THE BAND BANNER), and currently #75 WiW (SOMEBODY STILL OWES ME THE BAND BANNER).

Grace is a bloody agony. And I’m only half joking. Do visit her in London Crime University when you feel that your face sorely needs her fist.

Things have been pretty much the same with Rain, Iz, Zoe, and Mhairi. There was a promising change in Zoe’s life but my slowness and Megan’s welcome interferences put a halt to it. Let’s keep that hymen for another year, child.

LIAM.

Where do I begin? Perhaps in Sarajevo, two years ago, when his snowball knocked Agnes off her feet for the very first time. Or maybe I should start in Rio, a year ago, where they finally met again after she ran away from him, she motherfucking hightailed it, cause she used to be clever, and then out the ring. I think I should just conclude this by saying that Liam is happy. At last.