Half the reason I’ve been posting more and more about One Direction is because it makes Jacek crazy. He walks around the house and drives around in his car like a crusty f-ck old man now, at once blustering and muttering about “their hair” or “spacey pedestrians” or stupid drivers who don’t tuck themselves to the curb when making a right turn.

Anyway, One Direction arrived back in London today. Some of them were wearing pyjamas which, I’m sure, all those screaming girls totally appreciated.

Here’s the email chain Sasha and I just exchanged:

Me: I really do love Harry Styles.

Sasha: The pre-pubescent acne has to clear up first before I can get on board.

Me: That’s what I like about him. It’s like he keeps breaking out because he’s so horny.

Sasha: Sorry, I can’t perv/daydream on someone whose white head might burst in my mouth. That’s too progressive for me.  

No, no, it’s not like that.

It’s like Justin Bieber and Selena Gomez. I just want to see Harry Styles exchange lollipops and promise rings with someone adorable and baby-cheeked who would be much more understanding about his white heads.