Doing a shite

Hi Mystery-Fans,

I've been kind of busy the last wee while. I was writing a play about doing a shite, but it went all wrong.

There just isn't the market these days for plays about doing a shite.

Apparently in the seventies it was all go. Shite plays left, right and centre.

Nobody wants to know these days.

It's all Unicef, Lady Gaga and organic food.

Fuck off.

My play was brilliant.

It was a play about doing a shite.

I'll not give the story away, because some cunt will nab it, and I'll be left playless.

It was turned down by everyone.

There was a bit of comedy, pathos, drama and lots of excitement.

Some people said it was the least-explicitly-about-doing-a-shite-play about doing a shite that they'd ever seen.

I said, is that a bit like Inception? Could we do something there?

They said no.

I fled to Belgium in tears like Stephen Fry did in 1995.

I was OK when I got to the airport, I wasn't even upset any more.

But I went to Belgium anyway.

It's a nice country.

It's underrated.