It is not even half way through one lousy month and I am rebelling like a teenager with a cadged pack of cigarettes and a hot boyfriend in a car parked halfway down the block.

I am grudgingly writing down everything and then forcing myself to blog about it, even though Alan Rickman is dead and I’m not sure why anything matters anymore.

And David Bowie. Let’s not forget David Bowie.

This has been a bad week for aging British entertainment icons. Patrick Stewart, please stay safe.

What the heck is she doing now?

© E. Stocking Evans 2016