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Barry Olmone has been in touch, okay. He's given us an update.

Hi Barry Olmone here just to quick update on my incredible life and supporting infrastructure.

So recently I've been full on forensic with my kitchen island shine and buff routine.

So it's four foot by three foot epic slab of white marble effect Coriatton.

First to strip off down to my Tommy hips under kegs, they hug my butt like a couple of

spuds in a condom. Then I put on a pair of white slippers that I half-inched from the hotel

de va. The hotel de va in Bristol. I was there for a regional sales conference. I networked like a

fucking athlete who just happens to be a business bastard bumped into Sue Preston from Guildford,

popped a banana in her handbag and gave her a wink. Didn't come to anything.

Should have probably left my door open. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Anyway next I climb onto the island using

my folder way multi-step height adjusting miracle gadget and remove all dust with a microfiber cloth

wrapped around the slippers. It attracts dust like eye attract opportunities and leads.

Next up I drop a moisture bomb on the slab. It's an excise lump of number seven protect and

perfect intense and advanced moisturizing cream. It's the total shit and could bring life back to

an axe handle that's been abandoned in a Greek mountain donkey shelter. What I'm saying is that

it penetrates deeper than a hung butcher. Then I take a break a rune and enjoy a camper chew chew

from my George Clooney endorsed coffee unit. It's barris to quality without all the Tom Tittery and

...