We have now done three of the eight shows and are in Pontardawe for number four. A woman just invited me back to her house to 'worship the dark lord'. I declined. John threw a wobbly this morning when I said that his aftershave smelled like a cheap tart's perfume. He's so sensitive. Alan the writer and John had a bitter set to over the reviews. Alan told John that it's his writing that makes the show and that a monkey could direct it. John called Alan a 'deluded slap head' and they had a brief fight. Alan ran off and hasn't been seen since. Huw was arrested for laughing at a cow, which is apparently illegal in West Wales. Ollie has gone off for a 'massage' at a local parlor - Domonique's. He said he had a stiff muscle in his groin. Sharon, Siwan and Amy have stopped talking to me. They say that I don't respect them, the stupid bitches. One of our reviews called me a talentless nobody. Actually it was a quote from John the director. I objected, stating that I have a certain profile in Wales, and he changed it to a talentless somebody. Alan the writer is outside the window pulling faces as I write this. He needs to grow up. So goodbye. Support the National Theater of Wales. We love you.