Unending fame and fortune

This week I have taken several steps towards realising my ambitions in several fields, and hence have created in myself a feeling of dynamism and going-places that in turn allows me to project a greater impression of healthy self-worth among my associate employee contemporaries. I predict this will last until at least half past three tomorrow afternoon.

Here's a photo I took on the way to the pub.
This shows that Paris is better than Woodley Industrial Estate.

Firstly, I managed to get myself published in the Guardian. Well, the online version of the Guardian. It wasn't exactly an article, and as such I suppose you'd be stretching things to call it journalism. And they did cut more than half of my contribution. But there it was, my name in a national newspaper, and a glorious 34 words penned (ok, typed) by my fair hand. Hey, it's a start.

Secondly, I also found myself on the receiving end of journalism, being interviewed for the Paris Times (I think the article is to be printed next month). Now ok, the Paris Times is a nothing paper, a monthly freebee with about 7 readers, but... Hey, it's a start.

Thirdly and finally, Eddy the crooner has finally got himself a website. At the moment it is, frankly, a complete mess, which will more than likely crash your computer if you're not careful, so I fully suggest you don't visit it. I did, and despite a bout of Windows system capitulations, I managed to look at most of the pages, leading to the rather disturbing discovery that Nicolas, otherwise known as celui qui m'ouvre les portes (that is to say, the dude who is investing in our series of concerts this June), is none other than weirdo politician, stocks 'n shares genius, and convicted fraudster Nicolas Miguet.

So that's all good and raises no moral issues at all.