Tuesday, October 5, 2010

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.

1 comment:

  1. I'm pretty sure you have to have lived in a house for quite a while before you realise why living in a bouncy castle would be better. So I'm not too surprised they didn't get it. Adults audiences would, though. :-)