John Tothill

You should have seen this text.

It was like, dear sir slash madam comma, I trust your well.

Why are you apostrophe R-E?

You're not going to catch me out?

I regret to inform you that I have succumbed to a terrible disease.

You've got to try this, James.

Which, upon consultation with my family doctor, is either fatal or 24 hours.

Keep you abreast of developments.

Yours, John Seymour Tothill.

Seymour, not my middle name.

And of course, you know, there always comes that point where you think, oh, God, this isn't fun anymore.

You know, now I'm going to have to face work tomorrow, and what if I get found out?

And it's scary.

I remember that night coming home, five o'clock in the morning.

And the thing is, I live in London, so as you can imagine, I live with about 56 flatmates.

You know, loads of us, ridiculous, which I quite enjoy, because if I lived on my own, I'd take up crystal meth.

I've never said that in my life.

But if you live with flatmates in London, my bedroom is my only private space, which means my bedroom is filled with everything I've ever owned.

And if you come in from a big night out, five o'clock in the morning, the room's sort of spinning around you, you get into bed, it's very difficult not to feel like an Egyptian pharaoh... ..being buried with all his worldly possessions.

to afford swift passage into the next life.