It's OK, man. Let it go.
When I decided, on June 24th 2009, that what the world needed more than anything was to know how I felt after watching Chicago the night before, I had no idea a) how wrong I was or b) how much my tiny world would change as a result. But change it did, and before you could say "Goodness me, three and a bit years have passed", I was interviewing Roger Moore and Daniel Craig in the same week. If 2009 me had known, he would have shit himself from both sides.
I'm stopping writing The Incredible Suit because lots of other writing opportunities have presented themselves lately, and balancing them with a full time job, a blog and some kind of life is too much like hard graft for a workshy fop like me. Those opportunities came, though, as a direct result of me sitting down to chat shit about Chicago, so take heart, fledgling bloggers: if you bang on about James Bond enough on your own site, maybe one day you too will get to spend an hour in Roger Moore's company on behalf of the world's greatest film magazine. You will need to sort out your dreadful spelling and grammar though.
I'm aware that a lot of The Incredible Suit's content has been unmitigated shit, but there is the odd winnet of goodness in there that I've been quite pleased with - interviewing heroes like Joe Cornish (twice), David Arnold and Danny Kleinman, for example, or that thing with the crisps. Most of all, though, I'm proud to have fathered BlogalongaBond and ushered it through some difficult times, like Thunderball for example. It was with unbridled joy that I realised I was basically MAKING PEOPLE WATCH BOND FILMS, and if I achieve nothing else in my life I know that with that one, selfless act, I made the world a better place. I'd like to extend my thanks, a big hug and the offer of sexual intercourse to everyone who took part, especially those that joined in every single month and saw it through to the bitter end.
The most unexpected fallout from writing The Incredible Suit is that, given that I only ever thought it would be read by close friends, complete strangers who read it have ended up becoming close friends. Having started a blog because nobody in the real world knew what I was wittering about, I now have an entire circle of equally annoying freaks who at least understand the true genius of Timothy Dalton.
So as I pack up my words and take them off to new and better-paying homes, I'd like to say thanks to a few people. I'd like to, but I'm not going to, because unless you're one of them you don't care, and also I'll only forget someone and make them cross. But if you've been reading this rubbish for any length of time and not immediately posted some hate about it on Twitter, then consider yourself thanked. And if you're my wife, who's been unfathomably understanding about all this cack for over three years, then consider yourself thanked even harder.
As well as whoring out badly-constructed sentences to various regretful outlets, I'll still be talking balls on Twitter, occasionally dumping foul-smelling opinions on Letterboxd and - I'm very excited to say - continuing to blogulate my own brand of cabbage on the pages of the world's new best film blog, The Shiznit. So if you ever find yourself in a dark moment, unsure of how to feel about George Lazenby, that's where I'll be, waiting to hold your hand and tell you it's OK to like On Her Majesty's Secret Service.
Thanks for reading and sorry about the rubbish bits,