Dear Beso,



You never quite managed succinct, did you? In your hands, a brief summary somehow becomes more autumnal. "Shorthand" can only ever be the punchline to a Jeremy Beadle joke. Concise is for dictionaries and, let's face it, for someone who for many years thought "meme" meant nothing more than a handy, eager response to the question "anyone for another sambuca?", there's no danger of you knocking old Collins off his perch quite yet. Instead you prefer to hover somewhere between "wordy" and "gobshite". Therefore, as is your wont, you're the kind of girl to call a spade a sturdy digging implement comprising a heavy, flat blade and thick wooden handle.

And yet, suddenly and without warning, you find yourself at a loss for words. Not all words, of course. You still somehow summon up at least thirty three expletives a day. Still manage to find the words to convey just how very certain you are that you're now doomed to spend all eternity in the fiery pits of Hell after laughing uproariously at a television programme featuring someone getting stung in the eye by a jellyfish (followed by a very real feeling of disappointment that nobody had to compound the victim's humiliation by pissing on their face). Still utter a confused "eh?" when finding one of your stripy slingbacks in the shower (I refer you back to the "meme" comment. Listen to Zammo; just say no)

You've definitely lost some words though. Somewhere, somehow; they slipped through your fingers. Evaporated from your soupy brain. Legged it while you were looking the other way. While your head was turned.

And, fuck me, has it been turned.

That - right there - that is why the words have gone. There's no need to embellish quite so ornately when everything is just as beautiful without it.

But - just in case - you should keep this place to declutter your brain every now and again. It's not quite My Space (and thank the lord for that; neon yellow eyeshadow? Have a fucking word with yourself, Lily Allen) but it's your space. And maybe space is just what you need, you wordy little gobshite.

Lots of love,

Vic xx