Omaha Beach

Dear Octopus,


Action bloody stations! It's like the opening 20 minutes of Saving Private Ryan on Pod Deux today....legs torn off, guts being spilled, fire, bullets and wall-to-wall bravery. Jeremy is coping with pitch pressure, Clare is both making a film and writing award entries, and Shan and I are giving fervent mouth-to-mouth to multiple stuttering campaigns. Am both excited and terrified, in equal measures.


Alright, 80% terrified, 20% excited.


Last night Pongo roasted a chicken and we watched The Running Man. Honksy was annoyed and hiding in her room, writing her book about a boy with four arms and no sense of self-respect. To get her back for being antisocial I put her fountain pen in a jar of jam. She doesn't know yet. I think I'd make an excellent futuristic gladiator. A cross between Fireball and Captain Black from Captain Scarlet & The Mysterons. Although to be fair, he probably wouldn't put Lieutenant Green's pen in a jar of jam. Battery acid, if anything.


Am going out tonight with the old crew: The Chairman, Terry Rock 'n Roll, Major Tom, 'Sarcastic' Nick Roberts. I'm actually quite excited. It'll be nice to be back in the Old China Hand, my favourite local of all time (on par with The Ten Bells). You might remember it, I think you came and met me there one time before we went for those grim 2-for-1 pizzas on Pentonville Road. Seems like a lifetime ago now.


Maybe tomorrow I'll inform you of how it went. The drinks, I mean, not the pizzas. You know how they went. You were there.


Your loving friend,


Action Squid