Shit Me...

I can't believe it's real, well actually I can, because thanks to my flat mates I now own a can of this delightful stuff!

Yes it was truly the shittest gift I'd ever been given - in the literal sense of course. I absolutely love it, I mean it's not particularly convincing shit that comes out the end of the nozzle, but then I'm not always convinced by the crap that comes out of my arse either. All that doesn't matter though it's shit.... IN A CAN!

I would like to thank my flat mates for my wonderful, wonderful gifts, they were absolutely superb.

Christmas Cow

I happen to love Christmas very much, however I appreciate that for whatever reason it's not everyones favourite time of year. That's fine, live and let live and all that nonesense, what I took offence to today though was this strumpy old bint on the market who was obviously out with work colleagues speak "VERY LOUDLY" about "HOW MUCH I HATE CHRISTMAS".

Three things, no wait four, first "Shut the fuck up you miserable sow".

Second, get the fuck out of the Christmas shop then.

Third, stop picking up decorations saying "ooh that's nice" then putting it back down and repeating how much you hate Christmas (it's obviously bull shit and you're the gobby Cow from the office that no one can shake at lunch time and as a result you have to attention seek all the time from your long suffering colleagues).

Fourth, to reiterate a point "shut the fuck up you miserable sow".

Oh and now a fifth point, look what you've made me become. A vitriolic Christmas Queen, granted I was probably on the way already but that is far from the point. The point is that you are a foul, strange woman.

Mesh Up

Yes, yes, I know two posts in one day is simply an extravagance but I just remembered what I meant to post today.

I bought these new Calvin Klein Mesh Boxers on Friday thinking 'ooh sexy, wearing those almost certainly makes me look like that models anus. Fact.'

In reality, they feel rather strange underneath my trousers (pronounced trii-sers), so I was telling people at the party to feel the fabric. Oh silly me, someone used it as a brilliant opportunity to give me a wedgie. Yeah thanks Gino.

Only cotton undergarments from this day forth. Sexy though.

Kiss My Face

What this post represents is more of a return to form, I mean still no ridiculous outburst declaring my love for anyone in the room but more my mischievous behaviour.

Jo (pictured right) took most of these pictures. It was actually rather a good party, the only real shame was it was a monday night. It had food, free wine, karaoke (cute DJ) and secret Santa. It turned out that we had each other, I bought the German guy a disco ball, he bought me the gay times annual! Perfect!

I was all the more impressed that I was in before most people today. 9:30 I made it in for. Although when I first got in I literally stared blankly at my computer screen for 10 minutes (minimum) and it has taken me twice as long as usual to do my work today. Oh well. Lot's of love today (although Jon at work is acussing me of being beligerant - that doesn't sound like me on a hangover).

Tiny Tim... er Jon

For once, this weekend I managed to attend not one, but two parties and behave at both. No getting my arse out, no inappropriate outbursts. I schmoozed friends and business clients alike. A success I'm so proud.

I even managed to drink loads of water after the Friday night party. So much so I enjoyed the horrid delights of the night bus from Shaftsebury Avenue, watching a guy slowly vomit all over himself. Even I have never managed to achieve that in London.

The highlight of my Saturday night though was my friend staggering round at the end of the party telling me how much he loves me, yes, yes I know he's only human. Still time for me to make my exit though! He calls me the next day, with no recollection of these comments [but no denial I note] and telling me how he fell down the stairs at Vauxhall Station (probably straight into the doors of the Royal Vauxhall Tavern), this morning he's come into work looking like Tiny Tim, hobbling on a walking stick - his own.

"Tell Tiny Tim I won't be coming 'ome this Chris'mas"

Wonderful stuff.

I've Seen One of The Princes' Balls

More specifically it was Cinderella at the Hackney Empire. I hadn't been to Panto for years, this one was brilliant. It was nicely written plenty of innuendo, including some accidental.

"The prince's ball, it was the first thing that came in my head"

Please there are children in the audience, by that I mean please more of course. The ugly sisters were brilliant, but then I always was a sucker for a man in a dress. At the ball:

"I'm off to get something to eat"
"Really what are you having?"
"Tongue Sandwich"
"Oh I could never eat anything that came out of an animals mouth"
"What are you going to eat then?"
"Boiled egg"
Exit stage right

Yes it was all there and rather marvellous. However it's now all BEHIND ME.