August was undoubtedly the suckiest month ever, redeemed ever so slightly by a good friend’s wedding in Brighton. That was great.
Other than that, I broke my foot, spent two weeks at home on my own with no-one to talk to all day, and at the end of it all, was diagnosed with depression and prescribed pills that give me the shits.
And it wasn’t even sunny. Fucker!
Congrats to everyone who completed their Red Planet script. If I could have maintained a train of thought for more than ten minutes I’d have been there with you, brothers and sisters. Excuses, excuses, eh? Best of luck.