I’m reading the published diaries of a writer whose work I love dearly.
Twelve years in, he’s not once written an entry on my birthday. I mention this to my wife.
“It’s because he hates you,” she says.
Trev and Simon don’t hate you.
I’d love to read their diary.
HELLO. I am called Robert Wringham. Writer. Performer. Don’t get up.
You can read my stuff and buy my books in many places, but most excitingly at this website.
Have a look around. I hope you like it. Just wipe your flippin’ feet, were you born in a barn? You were? I beg your pardon.
I write books. You Are Nothing (2012). A Loose Egg (2015). Escape Everything! (2016).
Feast ye eyes →
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