Titles are for wimps and posers. And mice.

During the early noughties I would update my blog almost every day. On one hand, the fact that I no longer do this is a good indication that my life is busy and buzzing and bustling and any other 'b' synonyms you can think of. On the other hand, I find myself sitting here after two weeks of activity wondering how I'm going to sum everything up in a relatively coherent and/or interesting way. Don't get me wrong: I do mainly write these blogs for myself to look back on, but whoever is reading it (even if that is me in ten years) needs to be entertained to some degree, otherwise...well....I suppose my litle brain concludes that that would make the writer boring. And frankly, I can't think of much worse than being boring. Rape? Pah. Mass Genocide? Kid's stuff. Justin Beiber?....okay, maybe he is worse than plain boringness.

Shut up and get on with your update, dickhead.

I've had a day out with my Father: we went for lunch in Ash, walked around Hartley (where my dad told me about my great-grandfather who died from being kicked in the testicles by a cow. Don't tell me not to laugh. It won't work. That is just funny. I give you permission to laugh also, dear reader), and showed me where he went to school in Gravesend. Whilst in Gravesend he told me a story of an old woman who lived on the corner by the quay: she used to shout at all the schoolkids walking past, and angrily shake a wooden spoon or various other kitchen implements at them. This is also funny. Though I was somewhat disappointed to learn that she did not throw poo or manky cats at them. Mad old women come in various forms though. It is important to remember that.

I've attended a Zumba class. Hmm. Yeah but no.

'We're kissing the lips of strangers 

we're hugging whoever next we meet
Oh life, I love you to my bones'  

Sadly said goodbye to the best Manager I've ever worked for. I am sad to see Carol leave. She was like a strong tower in the middle of a field of forlorn jesters and manic goats. I don't really know about the jesters or the goats actually....the tower just made my imagination spiral. I like the imagery however, so I'm going to keep this metaphor, however innacurate it might be. So there.

'Man, everything's just so simple

when you're laughing until your face is sore

Oh life, I love you to my bones'

Spent the most wonderful two days in London. Rob Zombie (hell yeaaaah!), fantastic new friends, lunch and wine in Covent Garden (during which, James and I looked at each other and both said that this is what life should be like all the time. And it's true. Because we're the best), chainsaw jugglers with pink pants, drinks on the Southbank, hotel room visitors (no, no hookers - I am referring to the MOUSE. Yes, the mouse), then back home to relaxy times and visits to the Fluff-monster's flat of doom and cats and japes. I felt free and my spirit was completely at ease for the first time in months. I am free when shackled to the road (thanks Frank). Sadly, it all had to finish and I ended up having a shitwanking day at work. Still. I don't care enough to winge about it so that's all you need to know. And no, I'm not in trouble! I 'have my head screwed on'. To which my father replied 'yes, it's just the wrong way round'. Thanks Daddy!

'I've got punch lines and fisty-cuffs
and tons and tons of love'

Yeah, life. We like it. This is one of the songs that sums up my week (ironically it's by Wallis Bird who James randomly bumped into at the bar at the Rob Zombie gig. Well, that was unexpected.).This is dedicated to all my lovely friends who made my week so fantastic. And to life. To life. L'Chaim!