Denver has the lowest number of water buffalo

Going to Manchester today...I like Manchester. It's full of men and pecs. Work that one out yourselves.

yesterday was an arse-ridden day full of pox and gimpy things that made me wrinkle my nose and weep. Weeping is a much better way to say 'I cried like a small child at the age of 24'. Weeping implies I was a maiden who had been long since separated from her family and forced to work in a corn field but carried on stoically, even if I did weep a little at night. Silently of course. Weeping says nothing of the streaming nose and puffy eyes. Weeping also sounds a little like a sore. Like a big nasty red boil that oozed pus. I was not like that. But I may have wept.

I'm not weeping today. I'm going to Manchester to see tall buildings and talk to important people.

It's been a busy week and here are some major reasons for the blog hiatus, which I count as holiday time and shall not be shouted at for;

1. It was my birthday. Yes, that's right. I got a year older and am now at the shockingly dizzy heights of 24. I'm hoping 24 is going to be a really good age to be. I wasn't really a fan of being 23 - except for Lapland which was a total lifetime wonder - nothing much good occurred at the age of 23 and overall being 22 was a lot better. I'm wondering if it's an inate need for control that I can only really enjoy myself when I am an even number? Which means I'm going to be totally screwed up when I'm 30 because although I know it is an even number, I consider it an odd one and this is going to be tricky. My birthday was a day of 2 halves - 1 half being poo and in Gravesend, the other half being a delightfully laid back evening of drinks with some awesome people.

2. I moved house. Potentially more exciting than this whole nonsense birthday thing. I now live precariously close to the Monopoly board having just transferred to within spitting distance of the Old Kent Road. This move is intended to save me a lot of time in the morning and to give me somewhere fancy to live. Fancy, yes. Time? Not yesterday while the entire London transport system ground to a halt over these tube strikes. I was astonishingly late for work. This sparked a fail day of epic proportions which wound up with me losing £1200 and shouting at a bus all the way home.

That bus was a knob. Like a big, red, mechanical road based tapeworm.

3. I did some comedy for children. This was an excellent addition to my weekend - they are difficult but satisyingly interesting to perform to. Long may my foray into the world of children's entertainment continue...yessum. I found out that my long term plan to have everyone living in bouncy castles is a fail plan and that tomorrow's generation wouldn't go for it...shame. No imagination the youth of today.


And those were the highlights of my week. Except for deciding that I am truly addicted to X Factor and not ashamed of it. Saturday nights are now firmly Merlin, X Factor and sleep. Cool I am not.