I am currently under self-imposed house arrest at the Hopa's Malibu pad. Really, could life get any better? This has been my office for the last four days as the Hopa and the future Mrs Hopa (FMH) nipped off to Jackson Hole for a bit of skiing with the celebs.
Permission to be jealous, I fucking would be.
Honestly you never need to leave the house except to go run barefoot on the beach, which to coin an American phrase, is awesome. It's almost too perfect. The deck gets sun from early morning until around 2.30pm, which is great because anyone that tells you that you can write a heartfelt cinematic masterpiece whilst sunbathing naked is lying, you never do anything of the sort. What you actually do is cruise the surfers off on the waves to your right with the zoom lens on your camera and write postcards to everyone you know currently living in the wettest greyest most miserable parts of the globe (London, Paris) telling them all about how you are sunbathing naked on a private deck cruising surfers with your zoom lens... really, I am like SUCH a good friend...
Anyway, once the sun goes in you have to actually haul your ass in front of a computer and concentrate on what you are going to do with Don Draper (keep it clean please ladies). FYI, that's what I am actually doing right now, writing a spec script for Mad Men. Watch this space (not with a zoom lens...).
Images for your perusal below:
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