Neil Gaiman's brain farts are much more interesting than my brain farts.

I woke when Dave Mckean phoned this morning.

"Did you get my e-mail?" he asked. "I need the dialogue overhaul. Stephen Fry will be here in a couple of hours."

"Hang on," I said, puzzled. "That's not happening until Thursday."

"Right," said Dave. "Today. Thursday. Stephen Fry. Couple of hours from now."

My brain farts never involve celebrities.