My leathery, tired belly is starting to groan

Hello. I’m more or less back. Time will tell if my antibiotics have worked. Well, time and the unmistakeable stab of sharp burning sensations underneath my ribcage.

I see the police have voted themselves more pies in my absence. I can’t let go of the reins for five minutes, can I? In other not entirely unrelated news I missed Frank Black at the Turf tonight. K. managed to get his autograph, though. Everyone was apparently calling him Charles, but he signed himself Black Francis. Hearing about all these aliases, I can only conclude that the local plod should investigate, now they’ve got it so easy.

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