hot dogs, nudists and Bronte

So, I'm on the night shift this week, which means I'm very easily amused. I spend my days at home writing fiction that is crap. I can't go to sleep unless I read Wuthering Heights (by the way, so far my theory that Austen lovers and Bronte lovers are totally incompatible stands). And I laugh out loud at oddities I find on the internet.

Sad shadow world, eh? But I've been addicted to this blog for months, and this is just one of the many payoffs. (Thank goodness Canadians are generally too uptight to do such things. I have never met a bus driver I wanted to see naked.)

Also, who knew such a thing as this existed? Perhaps I should do PR for them, marrying my love of street meat and gabbering on about things that are completely unimportant.

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