Friends

Sometimes, friends turn up trumps when you least expect them. I may have berated my old pal, Thomas Hamburger Jnr, for trying to write a novel via a blog. I may even have accused him of producing derivative drivel. In turn, he has been kind enough to refer to my own blog as a 'monster', which I believe is street-talk for something that is actually quite good.

He's clearly a man who doesn't bear grudges, and he has continued to help me along by managing my blog for me, sorting out the postings I e-mail to him, and dealing with the technical issues that are beyond a man of my advanced years.

Late last night, he rang me up to invite me down to his French chateau for a few days, where he's taking a break from the writing with a few friends. He promises a heady mix of discussion long into the night, exploration of our pasts and copious amounts of red wine. Best of all, there'll be no room for Mrs Blunt. This is a strictly 'boys only' affair.

Young Jasper tells me that my technorati ranking (whatever that is) might soon overtake Tom's. Healthy competition between old friends is always to be encouraged. On the subject of which, I haven't heard a dickie bird about how my submission in the Fuel My Blog / lastminute.com 'Perfect Weekend' competition has fared. I'm counting on daddy papersurfer to keep an eagle eye out for the results while I am away, and to deliver my winner's speech in my absence. It should take his mind of all the troubles of his recent house move, anyway.

Cheerio!

Bill