Area 136

I, my dear 0.5 five of an avid, feverish reader - am going for a ciggie in the garden and then to my bed in the "orange room"

No row, paddy and brads - it has nothing to do with that fruit and it's beneficial applications, it refers to its prevailing colour.

Hope you out there (points in the general direction of the virtual world and stubs long boney finger on monitor screen, says "ouch" and waits for sympathy, gets not a sausage) have had a good day and will have a good Friday (not in the religious sense obviously because it is not "good Friday" Oh fuck it! you know what I mean! do I have to explain EVERYTHING!) and remember, we have the joys of a lovely wet bank holiday weekend to look forward to.

YE, and possibly at a stretch - HAH!

And now bed.

"Ah mister nothing at all to say, wiv thees post - you are spoiling uz"

Yeah. Nothing if not generous me.

Have a look at this little fella.

http://epicjourney.blog.co.uk/2008/05/22/title-4207827

yeah?, no?

Personally I am immune from cuteness as you all know.

But I thought you might enjoy this, erm...furry.....animal....erm...thing.

It’s all rubbish really innit?

Life, the universe, toast, cranes, wallpaper, Geese on stilts, Reality TV, sun dried tomatoes, political stuff, Health and safety, cheese in a can.

All mental.

As you can tell I am a touch with the nothings that I want to do mode.

So I am sat sitting here wide awake and typing whatever comes into my brain.

At one point today I was going to blog a post about the two alcoholic brothers I used to be in a band with, I was going to tell you that I had seen Professor Robert “I film young children but not in a bad way” Winston walking past our office in a white Linen suite and straw fedora, but fuck him – he never mentions me in his blog.

This ability to touch type can be a curse you know. Well obviously you do now because I am sitting here typing away any bit of drivel that pops into my head and laying it before your highly disinterested eyes.

Mind you, it makes me look busy (except that every one knows I can’t be doing any work because I am not swearing) and keeps my bendy fingers in tip top supple trim.

Oh cobblers to this, I think I need a FISH SAMMICH!

(look, soy has her bikkits, I have my fish sammiches )

I may also go and make a cup of instant coffee with four teaspoons of said go powder in it and see if my brain runs out through my nose.

Thank you, that is all.

Please go about the rest of your afternoon.

I am amazed at how often it appears I am going to have to get my hair cut. Every three to four weeks seems to be the way it's going to go.

so what you may say, but remember - before having it all cut off I had not had a proper haircut for about 20 years.

So all this head trimming lark is a bit of a shock.

I have become one of those people I used to snear at who think "Oh, I'm going away next week - better get my hair cut"

God I've changed! I used to be me!

Now I am someone else.

Or something.