Cannonball

Tomorrow, Gilly & I are going to watch The Worst Film Ever. In fact, I don’t even know what it’s called. It’s got Clint Eastwood in it, making gun actions with his fingers at Chinese people. Obviously. I dunno the storyline, or to be honest, if there even is one. I am looking forward to it though, as last week I didn’t find the cinema terrible. Maybe I even liked it. I have just never liked sitting in a dark room with strangers making noises and being all close and inconsiderate. Apart from a mouth-breather behind us, I didn’t even mind the people. Except Gilly, who mocked my tiny kids tray of popcorn and seven sweets.

To be fair, we had just been to the most militant All You Can Eat Chinese restaurant ever. They threaten to charge you an extra £3 per plate of uneaten food. Well what constitutes a plateful?! If I left just two deep fried babycorns would I be penalised?! It’s a mine field! A Chow Mein field. Does that work? I say yeah. Either way I ate a shit load, including some cake made out of air and a tiny bit of cream. It was really nice. And Gilly broke the ice cream machine and ran away. Bet that cost more than £3 to fix.

This week I have been really glum you know. And the main reason for it was the realisation that I am positive & confident. Oh contradictions, why do you penetrate my life so? I can’t even begin to explain here, but I am just in the wrong place, and the right place is far away and indistinguishable. What I want is to see fields out of my bedroom window, not be told when I have to eat my lunch, and to be able to work late and get up late, and to have cats sitting by my feet while I do it. And I want to not have to care about money. Money! You are awful, go away! The only times I think mmmm money is when I want something I don’t need, but I realise I can afford anyway. High Heels for example. They make me happy, but I don’t need them, and it feels frivolous and brilliant to get some. The rest of the time all money is doing is laughing at me and going BET YOU WISH YOU HAD MORE OF ME?! No, actually, I wish you’d shit off.

At seven minutes past midnight last night, errr this morning, I rang the speaking clock. Yesterday was Kimberly Walsh and her TING TING TING, and the day before was Cheryl Cole with a her filth-bag voice, so I had my fingers crossed for Harding. Come on, I want some lovely luck, tell me the time Harding, give it to me, give it to me now. Do you know who it ruddy was?! Shitting Barlow. Oh my gosh! He is the WORST smug man ever. I think Ryan Clark likes him. What does Ryan Clark know eh? He knows nothing when it comes to the right kind of smug, I tell you that.

I think it’s fair to say that 8 weeks is a reasonably long time. A lot can happen in eight weeks. I reckon some animals can make babies happen in eight weeks. Not elephants though, they take about three years don’t they? I am glad I don’t have to wait an elephants pregancy for anything currently. But anyway, eight weeks is nearly over, and I get to kiss my boyfriend right on the face in just a few days. Well, eight weeks ago, he wasn’t my boyfriend, so really, a lot does happen in eight weeks. Eight weeks ago, I liked my hair better than I do now. Eight weeks is almost 1/6 of the year gone already. Stopp ittttt. Just be happy it’s nearly all gone and soon I can start thinking in hours rather than days or weeks.

Tomato soup. It’s well good isn’t it?!

Shit, I well love Charlie & The Chocolate Factory.

Right, Bestie was just doing a moan, as if I am hard to buy presents for. I ruddy fucking love presents. Mostly buying them, but getting them is really totally brilliant too. It is only four months (exactly) until my birthday, so it’s worth starting to think about what you are going to buy me probably about now. I have gotten Alice a brilliant birthday present, but it’s not here yet, which is terrible. And yesterday I bought Bestie a tiny present that made me really happy, and although I have no use for it myself, I have enjoyed playing with it and taking it apart and putting it back together thinking “CLEVER”.

Here is some stuff I would like in my life:

A Trophy.
Today Ryan told me I was the least wimpy person he knew, or something like that. I asked for an award that said that…and he just ignored me. So I tried Swifty and he seemed to think this was an absurd idea, especially when I said I had never won any prizes in real life. He said he found that hard to believe and that if it was true then my competitive streak was MISPLACED and I should take up a sport. FUCK THAT. I dont want to have to do sport to win a prize. I hate sport. I just want a tiny cup that says I am the best at something. Unfortunately I have no clue what I am the best at, apart from being non-wimpy. But I think he was just being nice actually, I am kind of wimpy.. especially at Ryan. BOO HOO THERE’S A RAT. BOO HOO MY FINGGERRR. BOO HOO MY HEART ACHES. I am tougher than him though I guess, so give me a ruddy trophy.

Lady Luck Rules OK- Personalised Russian Doll Necklace.
Heck yesss!

Go on, imagine that with my name on it! R.E.B.E.C.C.A. Oh how my heart aches for that to be real life. It’s 100% better looking than a Vivienne Westwood pendant (but I still maintain that is pretty fit).

Stella McCartney Peony Perfume
It reminds me of being brilliant and a bit powerful. This French man gave me some. I had no romantic intentions toward him at ALL, and I didnt think he did towards me either. I met him last year at Hellfest as he is a journalist, and Mick thought it amusing how he gazed at me adoringly from a distance for ages. When he eventually came over to say hiya a spider fell from the ceiling and went down my top.  I am fairly sure he didnt fancy me after he’d seen me fish an arachnid out of my cleavage. Anyway, the perfume is brilliant, I love it.

Frost French Russian Doll Underwear Set from Debenhams.

This Russian Doll theme works for me.. stick with it. Look at themmmmm. I am sure boys would go urrkrkk and think that it’s just not sexy. Well, hang onnnn, I’m just not sexy either, so buy ‘em for me and look at my brilliant happy face.

A Mulberry (Roxanne) Bag.

Now let me tell you about Mulberrys. They are handsome to look at, they are sturdy and they are expensive. Oh I like those qualities in a .. bag. Since I basically discovered I could distract people with accessories, I have been a big fan of bags. My mum really is too, but now I live far from her, I can’t take advantage of this as much. When she is gripped by Fiorelli fever I could easily slip a nifty handbag into her grasp for her to gleefully pay for, which she has done many-a-time, hence that massive ruddy box of handbags in my bedroom. I currently use a £4 Primark bag that I bought in red and Alice bought in black, well over two years ago.

Anyway, I have long lusted over a Mulberry and it is no secret. Imagine my DISGUST, HORROR and the sheer REJECTION when my dad bought my sister a dusky pink Mulberry bag. She showed it to me and declared it ugly. I could have wept! I probably did weep. It was ugly, it’s a totally horrible colour. It’s in my kitchen now. I think she took pity on my slowly breaking heart and tried to stick it back together with an unwanted handbag. You can’t just go buying expensive handbags willynilly for people, you have to know what they like. Just like you can’t go buying expensive jewellry for people without knowing what they like.. hence why I have a £500+ ring in a tiny box over there. Ouch. Anyway, I am trying to learn to love the colour, so it gets some use and love. The handbag, not the ring.

One time a man implied that if I had sex with him, he would give me his Mulberry man-bag. If there was any way I could have done that without, you know, actually touching him, I probably would have. He was grosssss.

A Date With Glenn Danzig.
Yessss! He’s gonna be on Rock Of Love! I wanna win a date with him! It makes me really, really annoyed when I mention Danzig and people go hurrr hurrr have you seen that video of that guy knocking him out?! Yes, I have, and that man is now dead, did you know that?! DID YOU?! WELL HE IS! AND DO YOU KNOW WHY? It’s cos he punched Glenn Danzig in his absurd and yet handsome face. Glenn has the same birthday as me, this in itself is evidence we will have stuff to chat about. Ohh what did you do for your birthday last year? Ate a bowl of death out of a goats skull in the middle of a barren desert…you? Oh I did karaoke at a chinese restaurant in Leeds. See.
Failing that I would like this:

But washed hundreds of times so it’s all faded and brilliant.

Beautiful Art Prints, right in my face.
Lempicka, Mucha and Klimt were my favourite artists when I was at school.
These are my favourites by each of them, mostly predictable, but I care not.

Girl With Gloves
I would like to take this opportunity to praise Tamara for being a scandalous slut back in the day. Yessss.

Dance

The Kiss
I did a whole project on Klimt for my GCSE art. I got given a Klimt frieze. Ohh I am actually not going to talk about that, it was weird and makes me think about stuff I don’t wanna!

A Tiny Holiday
I don’t even wanna go far. I would like to go to the countryside and sleep in a bed with massive pillows. And read books. And maybe touch some animals. I would like it to be acceptable to wear a massive jumper and leg warmers and drink neat Ameretto. And maybe have someone squeeze my feet, professionally or otherwise.

Metallic Shoes.
I need some. How am I ever gonna be a rapper with out some bling on  my toots?
The closest I can find online to the dream shoe is this:

That ugly ankle strap can shit off though, I’d have a nice big gold bow instead. Thanks.

Any of this stuff:
PENS! NOTEBOOKS! TOFFIFEE! oh gosh! they sell Toffifee in POUNDLAND now, I nearly sicked down myself. Instead I bought a box and ate it in the bath. RUM RUM RUM,. Golden half-gloves, Make Up.

Mostly the best presents are words. Words and trophies.  Only if you mean them both, you idiots.

I didnt put one single lewd present, there are plenty I would like.

I definitely made the rum too strong. Alice went home in disgust. I have sort of drunk hers too.

 I am cold, so im gonna get in the bath, then get in my new reinforced bed that I paid a man £15 to correct. He had a mark on his forehead and likes the scouts. Thanks Laurie.

SEEE YERRR.

Yesterday I got a double chocolate brownie from the WI in Chester. And a boyfriend. I got them both within the space of 60 seconds and my limbs went wobbly. I could put this down to the EXTREME sugar content in those brownies..seriously, you can see it, you can actually see the sugar granuals. Liz Mogg makes them (I don’t know her). I am gonna go to Chester (on a Friday) and shake her frail hand. I am in awe of them.

You don’t even care about brownies (I do), you probably want scandal. I wouldn’t say it was scandalous but it was traumatic. If I could have shaken myself in the last 48 hours I would have done, I would probably have deserved it, but it would also only have made me cry more. Yeah, hells bells, I cried LOADS. Yesterday, I cried when I was walking to work; I cried whilst I was in work, sat at my desk; I cried on my lunch break sitting on a wall; I cried on the way home from work. A small tear even leaked out when I was chopping garlic in Swiftys kitchen. Do you get the jist here? Before amazing delight and happiness came some extreme sadness and confusion.

I don’t really cry that much these days, but I have no shame in that I cry when I am sad. That’s fine I reckon, because I laugh a lot too. I laugh when I am happy and I cry when I am sad. That is fine. I cried a lot when I was young though. I am going to ask my mum about that tonight now, what on earth was I so sad about?! Did I have a traumatic childhood and I have blocked it out?!

On Monday, three different men told me I was brilliant, in three different ways. Only one of these conversations didn’t make me cry. That one just made me massively smug. And then I drank some bourbon and made a video of the hags and bats leaving Children of Bodom at the Academy. I am running out of steam to tell you about Cannibal Corpse, but they were good. I never ever thought I would see Cannibal Corpse, I dunno why. I imagine they arent that different to how they were 10 years ago. Oh actually now I have heaps to say about them, but I feel like I have said a lot already. Whilst I was watching them, Michael asked me a question and I responded with “Jyeaaaaaah”. About five seconds later GCF shouted JYEAAAAAH into the microphone. Hello Echo.

That’s a lot of writing.

Gosh I am really chuffed today. I have a dead handsome boyfriend and I just got told I was allowed to hang out with donkeys WHENEVER I WANT.

My feet hurt today. I wore brilliant yet inappropriate shoes to walk into Headingley yesterday. I had a lovely time and a blind date. Shakez! Also! I saw Hank, Arlo, JM & LB! I ruddy love Henry Newsome. He is so very not stupid at all, and tells me regularly that I haven’t delivered his Christmas presents yet. I realised I’d left them at home when I was half way to Headingley, so hastily bought some cars to placate the gingers. It only just worked. But that’s fine, Henry has decided he is moving in with me. He kind of wanted to come last night but I convinced him that staying with his family was more appropriate. I think it was largely the close proximity of my house to the local swimming pool which was appealing to him. That, and I told him we would only eat pizza and I would carry him everywhere in a tiny basket. He asked me to kiss him goodnight and totally put his tongue right in my mouth and licked my face! What a rotter! Arrgh!

Being back at work is rubbish. That is a fact.

Tonight I am going to Manchester, kind of with a stranger. Well, I have met him twice, he seems nice enough and he clearly has a car, which is a benefit to all concerned. I have guestlist to see Cannibal Corpse. Holy Cow! Fair enoughhh, I don’t get to go (disem)bowling with them, but apparently I am granted delightful access to the VIP bar. I wonder if Corpsegrinder likes Ameretto Sours as much as I do? Only one way to find out I guess. Oh yeah, Children of Bodom are actually headlining, but I am not so bothered about them… have I named my cat after anyone from CoB? I think ruddy not.

I thought that this week would be bleak and empty, but so far, it is not, and it’s filling up pretty fast. I need for that to not happen actually, so that I have time to eat bean sprouts, and step on things, and typetypetype. Oh, does anyone just see the word PET when I write that? My friend Alan used to sign his art work alanalanalanalan. What other word can you read there? Exactly.

In two weeks today, I will likely be beyond excited. Two weeks is hardly any time. Well, it’s certainly a bearable amount of time. Its about a third of the amount of time I have already waited. So, will be a quarter of the time I wait in total. Time eh?! What a nonsense. Time & Geography, why do you hate me so? I want to do a cuddle so much that my arms ache a bit.

Oh well. I cum blood.

Bye!

Where did all the time go? For serious, I need a bit extra. I really don’t want to go to work tomorrow. I am going to get agitated by work again soon, I can feel it bubbling up. Bubble off. And no Alice-Mail this week. Ouchhh.

I think I forgot to write in here for a bit, and I think people forgot to read it too, so really, it’s no great loss.

I have a new (only slightly wobbly, and not actually new) bed. I like being in it, a lot. I even bought new bedding which feels nice on my skin. It’s not leopard print silk, but it probably should be. Why don’t I own bedding of that description?!

Anyway, the more something is important in my life the more I want to just hold on to it for just me. Knob off basically, I am not spilling no beans here. I could tell you, but I doubt you would care, and it would just gush out all over. gush gush gush.

The lesbians across the road gave each other tulips for Valentines Day. I got some glumness and a good chat. I think it works out okay, and just about in my favour.

I feel overwhelmed by work. By underwhelming bands, that I have to make sound appealing. Help me! Help me!  I am lost and in too deep.

Today I made a pun about a sick horse. You know it already don’t you? Horse-pital.
Yep! Standard punning, but nonetheless, a good pun.
A girl in my office laughed SO much, it was insane.

HAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHZHAHAHAKWHDJHS BECKY YOU ARE SO FUNNY! SOOOOO FUNNNYYYY HAHAAHAHAHAAHAHA.

I thought she was being mean and taking the piss out of my lame (horse) joke, til I saw she was basically sobbing with glee.

Last night I got told off a bit, and I cried. It was rubbish and I felt like a massive horrible person. I still do, even though I have been instructed not to. Some things are hard to explain, and ILIKEYOUILIKEYOUILIKEYOUILIKEYOU doesnt seem like it will do the trick. I stayed awake til gone half five just basically thinking I AM AN IDIOT. Right now I would choose to kiss him over any other man ever, except maybe Patrick Bateman. But as Patrick Bateman isn’t real, I guess NBF wins. Anyway, I only like Bateman because he likes Genesis and I have seen what he can do with a wire coat hanger….

I am definitely going to be in bed before midnight because tomorrow I am in charge of my first ever exam committee. If I were a bit of a lesser person I would be scared. LUCKILY I am pretty fearless. phewww.

Listen, I know Madonna is offensive these days, but I used to really love her a lot. All the way up to that Confessions on a Dancefloor one I reckon, just about. That one appealed to me because she was clever (it was clever, not lazy, right!) and obviously used parts of other songs musically, but also lyrically. Are you familiar with the duet she did with Prince?! Love Song. It’s brilliant! I totally love it, and she reuses some of the lyrics on that Confessions.. album. Speaking of Prince duets, that one he did with No Doubt is also BRILLIANT! I might listen to it right now. Oh hang on! That album wasnt all good, by any means. I remember listening to it in my mums house for the first time and cringing at the lyrics.

Oh! Same with American Life! I thought that album was mostly… funny, it has some wierd rap/chant/fast speaking thing which I learned off by heart for Alan one time. Oh how we LOL’d. Anyway, I was just going to say Ray Of Light, that’s a good album. Sky Fits Heaven was one of my most favourite songs for a long, long time.

Right, I am gonna do a rap, then listen to that Prince song, then I am gonna put some washing on. Domestic piss.

I think I said before how I always wanted an older brother. Then I got one, and it was a disaster. I actually think I would probably make a good older sister you know. I am dead good. I have the required immaturity (i.e laughing at cock jokes) to hang around with kids with ease. I had brilliant fun at Bloodstock last year when I was hanging out with a seven year old and two teenagers. I didn’t make cock jokes with a seven year old. I should stress that.

It’s hard to compute feelings sometimes. I mean, just because I am thinking about them, it doesn’t mean I want them. And just because they are provoking feelings, it doesn’t mean I should act on them. Even if there was anything to act on. It’s like if you found out you were pregnant, even if you didn’t realistically want a child, and it was impractical and no way would you let it ever happen.. You can’t help thinking about how close your life is to changing. In fact, you wouldn’t have to do anything.. If you did nothing at that juncture, then stuff would happen and everything changes. But anyway, it doesn’t make it wrong to think, “oh gosh, a baby.. Imagine if I had a baby”. Imagine if I had some brothers instead.

Anyway, today is an important day to someone who used to be important to me. And I am thinking of them. I feel like I am waiting for something to happen, but nothing will. What possibly could happen? I will probably be the furthest thing from their mind today, because I am Old and they like New.

Last night I was unbearably sad, and besides the bit with Alice and the Boop Boop I mostly cried and arranged my shoes in rows. And drank rum. I made a hot chocolate and put rum in it, and then when I drank a bit, I topped it back up with rum. Until I was mostly just drinking slightly chocolate flavoured rum.

To add to all the things I have been thinking about, I have broken someone and their heart way worse than I actually thought. I thought it was just a bump or a bruise, but I think it’s totally broken now, and I am so, so sorry. I can’t fix it, probably ever.

I always say it and never do it, but I really am going to buy some mangoes this weekend. I am going to make chutney and feed it to Alice with a spoon.

I really, really want a cuddle. A dead good one, where you’re allowed to listen to someones heart beat for a while.

Ryan Clark just showed me a picture of a man who appears to have no ears. It actually made me feel sad.

I havent spent the evening being tidy, I have spent it talking on the phone. To Swiftyx2, to Dave, another Dave and to my mother. I badly wanted a bit of Wheatley action too but she’s phoneless. I feel like she needs a hug right now. It’s good speaking to Dave though cos I get to speak to Mark at the same time, he can’t hear me though. Maybe he prefers it that way, Dave is pretty good at passing on the vital information. And I demand to speak directly to Mark for the real gossip as necessary. Two chats for the price of one.

I am convinced my parents are rich now you know. Fancy casually dropping into the conversation that the weekend I am visiting for a dentists appointment that their HOUSE REFURBISHMENT starts. What house refurbishment? But it’s okay, it will be done by the time they go on holiday and the PROFESSIONAL HOUSE SITTERS MOVE IN FOR A MONTH. The WHO!?! Don’t get me wrong, I am chuffed for them, they’re obviously doing something right. I was just oblivious to any kind of riches until recently.

Prior to these revelations my mum had flippantly said she would contribute towards my “self development” if I decided I wanted to do some kind of PR course at uni.. what with getting 50% off fees etc. I was explaining how I felt a bit financially stuck (not just cos I have spent all my money this month honest!), and I would never get to learn more things that cost money, or you knowww learn to drive or anything. When she said that I wanted to go ARRGHRRH A TAXIDERMY COURSE IS ONLY £500!!!!!! But I think she might think that doesnt do anything for my err development. It would mean that I would make use of all the tiny mice that get bought into my house though.  Taxidermy dioramas!

Ohh shitt I should write about The Best Present Ever here. This one isn’t a secret and is gonna be a labour of love and dedication. It’s gonna take probably twice as long as writing that fuggin book. I should get started really, COME ON Kieran! It’s basically going to be an open fronted dolls house taxidermy diorama, starring fucking loads of shrews! Have you ever looked at a shrew properly?!!?

Heee heee!! He’s so cool! You NOSE it! They don’t all have legs that long though, that’s an elephant shrew. Normally they just look like tiny moles, or chubby field mice but with dead long snouts. Hiya snouty.

Anyway, we love them! So there’s gonna be heaps of them in Shrew House. I wish I could find a picture of what I want to make, but maybe it doesn’t exist yet!? maybe I will have to draw it!?

I did find this though!!

It’s from a place called Squirrel Heaven or something in Wisconsin. Cooee Static X. Anyway… what the chuffcock is going on there?!?!~ The horse isnt a once-real horse and yet look at its poor face. NEIIGGHHHHH. Has Hat-On Squirrel got a gun in that holster? It looks like a rabbits foot! or FEET! step back or i’ll feet you right in.

Earlier I told Dave that I’d met Chuck Billy from Testament. I didnt tell him that I was introduced to him by a seven year old girl, although that is what happened. YOU DIDNT!?! YOU DIDNT!! I did! MARK! BECKY MET CHUCK BILLY FROM TESTAMENT!! HE’S GOT MASSIVE HANDS HE HAS, I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU MET HIM. I thought I was in a paralell universe or something, where meeting Chuck Billy was actually something good and exciting. I mean, it wasn’t bad and boring, but errr, you know- we just shook hands and said hiya, we’re not friends. Instead, Dave is just insane. I actually think maybe he is, but I can’t tell you about that here. Shh.

I am a new found fan of conducting business in bed. Not in a slut way. I just mean, I like getting into bed to reply to emails on my Blackberry. Tonight I am gonna email a charmer, and aquire the best poster I have ever seen. EVER.

I just thought of the best errrr THING about Valentines Day, I gasped so hard at my own brilliance; I inhaled a lot of air and now have semi-hiccups. Semcups?! Urgh no that sounds like a contraceptive device.

Of course I don’t officially have a Valentine. Hmm. This present is the best thing I have possibly ever thought of. Better even than drinking rum and chocolate coffee in the bath this evening.

I should tidy my  house. Anndndnddn do some writing and email Embo before he goes away. Awh yeah I got a dead lovely picture (despite his umjmmmmm face) of him with his sister. She’s gonna make him put it on myspace. hah. I hope it snows more tonight cos I well love watching people be dramatic idiots, whilst I just sit there going OHHHHH.

I did that a lot today, just sat there.. ohhh.

I got some mousse in a pot. It’s in my fridge, I’m gonna eat it in a min. From the pot, not a person, that would be demented, obviously.

In four weeks I have a hot date, and luckily Series 2 of Nighty Night is in my kitchen right now, all ready and waiting.

I wonder if this will come out as one massive paragraph again. Damn you technology. I am putting a new paragraph…NOW. ? Birmingham was good. Not including my train ticket which Shane’s gonna give me the money for, it’s been totally cheap too. Which is good as I’m badly skint FOREVER. I met totally loads of weirdos this weekend. And saw some weirdos I already knew. Frank Healy surpassed all ridiculous expectations and got progressively more off his face and obscene as time wore on. He took to following me around and stroking my fringe. That fringe is gonna have to go I reckon, it encourages the wrong sort of behaviour. His hair care tip to me was “fringe: an inch shorter and poker straight”. His hair care tip to Mick was “ginger:lose it”. Anyway, saw lots of brilliant people…steve and his excellent arms, Paul Kenney..ohh hang on, all of Nathrakh were there. Lovely time. Plus Nik!argahah! And druff, dozzer, roasterz, bloody AK,ohh basically all the people I know in Birmingham. I insisted on only having photos taken of me on my “best side”. By the time Napalm had finished playing, there was no best side left. Ohh. I met legendary producer and all round lovely man Russ Russell and his excellent wife (who had an excellent coat). I met Shanes sister! I met a scott lookalike. A scottalike. Harr harrr. I got given a napalm shirt with a skull on it. A skulll!! I think its a goaty skull. Yerrr! Trying to remember stuff is rubbish. I shot some chickens on a computer with Dave. Later on he told me I was intimidating and did an impression of me!!!!jnisjjaasfk!!! An impression!!!!! He insists that he’s not intimidated but suggested I take into my fearsomeness into account sometimes. Then he described their new album with a tree analogy where bruce dickinson and king diamond were branches. Then I serenaded him. He liked it. James was getting well enthusiastic about Pantera with Mick and they did a lot of headbanging. They both have sore necks today! Ohhh I gave mick a birthday card with michael jackson on it. I badly made it myself- it said “from one michael to another, happy birthday”. Yeah, awwh. I felt really sad at one point because people can be pretty harsh and mean, even if its by accident, I guess. So I drank neat southern comfort in my PJ’s and ate left over kenney christmas chocolates with Mick. Oh before I stop rambling I want to say how good John Cooke is! I love him. Also, I did a bit of work and did some good charming of people. Now I am on a long train journey, with only Cave In and near-pornographic texts about chicken to keep me amused. The end.