I have books! Earlier in the week 300 copies of my book were delivered to my home. It's a victory of sorts. I've given some to my local bookshop in Wood Green to sell. They're very good. The rest I will use to build a fort. Or give to important people so that they like me.

In other news, I have a massive spot on my face. It's quite disturbing really. It looks like I've been shot in the cheek at close-range with a pellet gun. It started innocently enough as a tiny, harmless, subcutaneous swelling. But against the better judgement of my girlfriend, I wouldn't leave it alone. So, in a state of existential angst, I dug and hacked at it, and now it's the size of Holland, but on my face. Still, thanks to my efforts, it looks less like an adolescent spot and more like a war wound. More macho. As a teenager, I assumed that by the age of 33 I'd no longer get spots, but it seems that was just an idle fancy, like so many of my expectations of adult life. I am stuck in a prolonged adolescence.

What else?

I've been planning a podcast for a while and have been meeting up with a friend of mine who is doing it with me. It's been quite fun so far, although it's a lot harder than I imagined, mainly because I've now realised that I start sentences, but don't finish them, and that when I talk you can hear every slurp and pop in my mouth. Anyway, the excitement came to a crescendo a week ago when we met in a cafe in Kentish Town to discuss ideas. As we sat over our coffees, a genuine, C-list indie celebrity walked into the caff, ordered a coffee and sat near us.

Can you identify him from the photo?

Yes, it is of course Gryff Rhys, lead singer of the Super Furry Animals. My life is so exciting.

When the podcast is ready, I will tell you all (all 3 of you) and you can download it and listen as you stroll along your Parisian Boulevards.