I got to S&F's

Scared the crap out of Mrs F's mother by being light on my feet and catching her unawares (I would put "ahem" but it sounds far smuttier than it is, or I would even want to imagine)

Escorted Mrs F senior off the premises.

Broke out my Les Paul.

Fought my way past the lazer security systems protecting Mr S's drink cabinet.

Sat for one minute "Luxuriating" in my tension headache.

Took a big sip.

And rocked out.

And the cats did dance and run for cover.

And the vibrations of the speaker in Moffs poor and much bestet on amplifier did cause all the worms in the lawn out side to pop out of the ground like little brown patriot missiles in one of George dubbleyuhs wet dreams.

And.

Afer a while.

I was me again.

Oh fuck.

I was hoping to become Sean Connery!

Oh well. (mind you, he is probably shite at playing guitar)

Better luck next time eh.

Please don't tell me I have spent all damn morning and a bit of this afternoon doing a report for an office that I actually did and finalised last fucking week!

BOLLOCKS!!

What a waste of a day!

Fuckety shit lumps.

I feel a rather loud session of guitar playing and a wee drinky at S&Fs' coming on.

Gonna make the cats DANCE! or run for cover.

Not like today had much going for it anyway.

Personally glad to see the back of it.

Actor Owen Wilson is reportedly recovering in a Hollywood Hospital after an attempted suicide bid.

What did he do, try to watch all his own films in one sitting?

Yep, tis lunch time and I find my self at my desk.

Well I like to worry the barstaff on occasion by not turning up.

And now I am bored.

So. What is the weirdest thing you have ever found in a toilet?

Me, well...

In the public toilets of Liverpool Street Station in London, being caught short on the journey home, I pushed open a cubicle door that was ajar and found a ginger haired twentysomething male office worker, still in his shirt and tie, sat with his trousers round his ankles merrily having a wank.

I said something along the lines of "of for fucks sake!" and chose another cubicle, well away from his one.

Your go.

I am not at all "confused"

I have got a bit of colour from various hours sat in various gardens drinking various drinks.

I am the lord of bloat.

And I did NOT just try to fill the kettle up from the shredder.

No I didn't.

Well.

Whose bloody silly idea was it to put the shredder next to the water cooler anyway?

Ahem.

Due to said festival of us not winning much in the way of precious metal at all, due to start in some years, Stratford Station is being buggered about with/improved/de shit holeised or something.

So they only managed to start running trains into central London at about 07.15 this morning. So they were a touch on the full side. I had a seat so I could sit and be amazed at the optimism of people trying to cram themselves onto a train that is already bursting at the seams and asking in tones ranging from angry to pleading – “Could you move down a little please?” Bugger off.

There is however a nice coloured glass theme developing in the area of Stratford station though. The new Docklands light Railway platform has a weird wonky roof on it that reminds me of a giant bit of peel from the outside of some huge metallic fruit, and the walls are made of glass panels in various pastel shades. As you travel down the line a little, you pass new blocks of flats going up to take advantage of the property price rise that will come with the games. These very nice and probably expensive flats all have balconies with glass panel screens around them in various pastel hues. All looks very jolly and very much “not for the locals!”

Because they may be having their borough polished and modernised to within an inch of its life, but you don’t actually want the locals to take the new pricey flats do you? Nah, they can stay in the blocks that were put up just after the Second World War which, surprisingly, seem not to be getting the big tart up at all.