Hello Disciples, Mister Squeaky here. The master is not in the best of humours at the moment (no change there then) and has commanded me on pain of a sharp stick applied whilst roosting to fill in on the blog.
Now what appears to have vexed his Darkness is a thing for the flash gun and the car being exceptionally temperamental when he wanted to go down to Leigh-on-Sea to see and photograph Outsider this evening. So he's descended into a gloom-laden absinthe session having given me a briefing on blogging - Do it or else and don't give me any of that "I'm only a giant rubber goth bat, how the hell do you expect me to type crap"
He also complained about the fact that no-one has taken his wish list seriously - he really does still want that little goth minx in a little black (latex please!) dress and would like one in time for Yule so he can get the full benefit of christmas stockings - or so he says - Pervert is what I say, no consideration for a bat's comfort I'll be shoved off the curtain rail and being made to hang from the living room light fitting - not my idea of fun.
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