Oh how I missed you...

He rang our doorbell and my flatmate answered the door. It didn't feel like just a week since we last saw each other, but as soon as I hand my hands of him I knew I couldn't let go. Not this time. Not again.

Yes, Neil brought back our copy of the latest DWM this morning. I pawed it as we chatted, flicked through its lovely pages, admired the simply gorgeous picture of Clay on his goodbye page (well done, Clay, you look about two inches taller since resigning x).

Haha - actually, nice as it ws to get the magazine back, it was much nicererer to see Neil, who's looking very well and smiley and gives just the best man-hugs. And even though he clearly thinks I'm a sad bastard, he never fails to encourage me with my latest monster-making or my addictive toy purchases.

... though I'm not sure I agree with the notion of chest-hair removal. Just saying....