Bugger. This week has been significantly less productive than I had hoped. If it's any consolation, I haven't been doing much actual work either. And I can't even blame the jet lag any more. Dammit.

I have mainly been learning how to use twitter from my mobile phone, LIKE A TEXT MESSAGE. It's super easy and catastrophically addictive. Those of you who follow me over there may have noticed a million percent increase in my chattiness levels, plus a little makeover of my profile page, which resulted in an unexpected resurgence for this random old post from back when nobody read the blog (the sudden interest might have had something to do with the half-naked Italian footballers. Just a guess). Which reminds me, if you haven't before, you should go and have a poke around the archives - here are a few of my favourites to get you started. Ah, the old days, when I used to write whole entire posts that consisted of more than 200 words...

BUT! I have a proper written post with some beeeyoootiful pictures (courtesy of the lovely Christy) for you tomorrow. Or, I will have. By tomorrow. Promise.

And now I will stop being one of those irritating, apologetic bloggers who makes blogging sound like a terrible hardship that is forced upon them by their nasty readers. It is a joy, and I am continually honoured that anyone ever reads this blog at all (speaking of which, did you notice that the delightful Ms Peonies put me on her blog roll?? Excitement!). I just wish I had more time to devote to it. But sometimes you have to prioritise watching documentaries about bodysnatchers with your husband. That's married life for you.

Anyway, in the meantime, for those of you too lazy, too busy, or too downright prudish to click the link: here, in all their (quite substantial) glory, are the half-naked Italian footballers. You're welcome.