Coming home after what is almost certainly be the last holiday or mini-break of the year is bound to be a bit depressing. That's it now. Summer is officially over in this household. Roll on, Winter.
Llandudno (pronounced Th-lan-tid-no, if you please) was oft grey and overcast, but dramatic with that majestic backdrop of Snowdonia. We all had fun. I bought 11 new books for less than £20, some of them hardbacks too. By Carl Hiaasen, Michael de Larrabeiti, Bill Bryson, David Hood to name but a few. Pondered long and hard over Hal Duncan's Vellum, newly published by Macmillan. Gorgeous cover and excitable burb from the publishers evoking the name of the great Iain Banks, and that's not something to be done lightly. Anybody read any reviews anywhere? Leave comments below and earn my gratitude.
Heather consumed several bags of candy floss while Jill and I watched anxiously for signs of tooth decay. I began to imagine . . . What if . . . What if the British Dental Association got their own way and sugary confections like candy floss were banned. Made illegal. You'd get sugar-addicts buying candy floss at inflated prices from street dealers.
"How much? But that's outrageous?"
"Take it or leave it, man. This is good stuff, pure, uncut."
"I-I'll take it."
Lonely people in dingy flats, dying because the cheap candy floss they are inhaling has been cut with loft insulation.
IT COULD HAPPEN!
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