Hey there, the editor is back! Yes, it’s been six weeks since I last wrote to you and I admit it doesn’t help that this week is the last editorial of 2004, but it’s just one of those things with the Christmas rush, extremely tight deadlines and the temptation to slack excessively. Oops.

I won’t beat around the bush – this Saturday (the 18^th) is my birthday. You’ll know this because it’s unshamedly mentioned on my profile. I’m actually looking forward to it for the first time in years. Normally I get weepy over notching up another year while members of Destiny’s Child count backwards but no, this year I feel good. Let’s face it, it’s got to be better than last year – my mum jumped on a plane for my cousin’s wedding and I was dumped by someone I had invested a hell of a lot of trust and friendship into. (Don’t you just hate it when ‘friends’ turn their backs on you for no reason?) Come to think of it, the same thing has just happened again…

So what’s been happening in the last six weeks? Well, I attended a wedding, went to see Electric Six, spent a considerable time on the dreary Northern Line, the next bit is blurred as I can’t remember what else went on and this week, I popped along to the Bad Sex Award, held in St James’ Square in London – and it was my first time. Quiet at the back!

Each year the prize is awarded to the worst sex scenes in literature, by Literary Review magazine in a bid to discourage authors to write such filthy accounts. Two actresses, erm, acted out the nominated extracts but not literally (thank God) and my word, some of the things they read out sounded like they'd come out of Richard Madeley's mouth. (Oh, I must be careful with my words here - whatever adjectives or descriptions I use sound like double entendres.)

This year’s winner was an American author called Tom Wolfe, and when his name was announced, he was nowhere to be found! Was he that embarrassed? Judging by his appearance and age, I am curious as to whether his writing was from first-hand (sorry!) experience. *shudder* To be honest, I had lost interest as my feet were killing me from walking for half an hour in a pair of stilletto boots to get to the venue and there being nowhere to sit down in the room. What a cop out. And before you let your imaginations run wild, the only thing remotely sordid about the whole affair was the red lighting used in the room.

In the past, Mick Jagger and Jerry Hall have attended (albeit on separate occasions) and this year, the guest of honour was actor Tom Conti, who’s apparently going to be in some upcoming film about a vibrator. Hmm, I’d have much preferred Mick Jagger. And no, not like that! Yes, so any way, it was an experience which will be etched in my memory for a very long time.

I apologise deeply for the lack of updates since last week. I’ve attempted to make amends this week, but with most artists winding down for the end of the year, there isn’t a lot of new things on the scene so prepare for an influx in the new year.

Finally,  as I mentioned at the start, this is the last editorial of the year. Many of you will be knocking off from work this week, some flying off to exotic destinations like Norfolk so I hope you have a wonderful Christmas and a happy new year. And thank you to each and every one of you for supporting uk-fusion, especially my writers who have worked very hard. See you in 2005!

xxxxx