Of distant RUM!

Yep off home now.

While some of us are out doing Charity handjobs- I mean work for the displaced Welsh males of this world, I will be sat at home trying to chill and get Sarah to go to bed.

If I complete my task I may reward myself with a little drop of rum and a twang on the guitar while I sit gazing at my pc steadfastly refusing to do anything I ask it to do remotley quickly. If at all.

Have a good evening all of you.

That you get to compare the ten year old picture in the document to the new one for the replacement.

And you get to see what the last ten years have done to you.

Oh thanks for that life.

Cheers.

meh.

She stood right by my desk and said "Are we going then"

I thought she was talking to the office in general but on looking up, oh the horror, she was looking right at me!

So in the company of some other suitably pressganged people Our boss took us all off to the pub. Me in a pub. Me a clerical office monkey scruff merchant in the company of five managers. And the seniour manager boss woman.

And I had three large vodka and cokes and DID NOT do anything stupid.

Well because I had already done all the stupid things I needed to already. (see "Oh shit/Oh thanks")

She has heard about my little "frank expression of views" where I rated the management team in less than glowing terms of affection. She thinks its funny.

She also obviously thinks that my opinion didn't extend up as far as her.

Strange.

well she was trying to bond with us all. But I sat there for nearly an hour and they talked about work and work and more work. I was miles away. Then I heard a noise in the background and there is Amy, singing away on a great big screen that weatherspoons pubs have for showing the football.

And now my brain is trying to snap itself off my spinal column and run out through my nose.

They finished talking about work and the new boss was running through all the things she heard that I had said to people that were so "funny and cheeky"

Just tell me to tow the line rather than try to get me pissed!

Well she is making an effort I suppose so I should be pleased.

and now, Lunch.

A girl stands in front of me wearing a long dark coat with an interesting belt thing on the back of it. I glance up from my metro…

Oh god.

She is beautiful. English Rose would be the best way of starting to describe her.

Maybe a bit too thin, but that face!

Did I gasp? Oh how stupid. Probably didn’t.

Brown hair past the shoulders escaping from under a woolly hat. Straight nose with a slight turn up at the end, which is just so cute. Soft curves of her cheekbones; the line of her jaw is a work of art. Her lips are perfect. She looks like she is wearing no make up, which means she is either naturally stunning or very very good at using it.

I look back down at my paper. I try not to glance up again so I don’t make her uncomfortable. I fail.

I get off at Liverpool Street.

Funny how love never lasts.

Item one.

An 18-year-old girl has slept with 50 men since losing her virginity at 16. She met most of them via Internet dating sites.

Thank Christ she doesn’t have a blog! But why is this an item of non- news? She is from Dagenham, the town of my birth. Frankly she is slacking.

Item two.

Amy Whinelake has died her hair blonde!

Oh shock. Oh wow. Oh for fucks sake.

The only news I would like to hear about the booze addled stick insect is if she has put on some damn weight, stopped making records and bought a mirror so she may just realise one day that for ages she has been leaving the house with what appear to be some bass players plectrums stuck to her upper eyelids!