I understand that my production team have got lots of publicity materials lined up in the weeks to come, about which I'm generally kept in the dark for my own safety. I'm told on good authority, however, that I'll be surprised and delighted. Do I give off the vibe, dear reader, that I'm an anachronistic simpleton, who can barely cope with the rigours of the modern world? Alas, alack, it's true, dear reader, very true. Why, I'm dictating this missive to you right now, and a squadron of Benedictine monks are jotting it down, fiddling with coding, and paying off my Internet service provider. I haven't the funds to reimburse them, nor food and water to spare, and they subsist purely - and telepathically - on my otherwise untapped (and profoundly deep) well of shame and guilt. It'll all be used up eventually of course, and the monks will betray me in time. I must prepare for the worst.
Anyway, this can hardly interest you. I'll leave you, instead, with a very different cry for help. Zut Alors Theatre needs a bit of cash. Yes. £400 to be exact. We're not expecting it all from one person, however, and indeed we're grateful for any donations of any size. You can discover more details, and donate your filthy lucre to us, at our WeFund page right here.
In advance: many thanks, you gorgeous example to us all.