To Andrew

Raise your hand if you'd like to see my husband post more entries. His section of the site is supposed to be tracing his "[struggle] to become a professional historian." At the moment, it isn't. We ask: Andrew, what have you been doing, since you clearly can't be arsed to update your blog?

Here are some (conspiracy) theories. All are based on real evidence. Andrew has been doing one or all of the following:
1. Cavorting naked in the park during the midnight frost with flora, fauna, gnomes, and other woodland creatures.
2. Being outfitted for his superhero costume. Which superhero remains unknown, but some educated guesses include: Fulbright Man, He-Scholar, or SpongeAndrew Dadpants.
3. Selling cigarettes to desperate stag-party-goers in Temple Bar.
4. Competing in drag competitions as Oscar Wilde with breasts.
5. Flexing his muscles on the shores of Brighton beach; stealing from the poor and giving it to the rich in Nottingham.
6. Making out with Hugh Grant and Kate Moss in as-yet-undisclosed locations.

Let's hope this lost soul finds himself and changes his poor writing habits immediately. He could also take some advice from his wife, who updates regularly because her audience waits for it with baited breath.