Hailstones and Greek Liquor
Written at 9:11 a.m. on 2006-04-10
A Little Update from Manchester
I suddenly realised while catching up on other people�s diaries that I am a useless trollop who hasn�t bothered to update hers for an eternity so I�m going to do a little update because a) it�s long overdue and b) the alternative is actually doing some of the tediously mind-bending work I�m (under)paid to do. Bleurgh, imagine that. Doing some work, the very thought is enough to send me off fannying about on the internet for a few hours.
At the risk of sounding very British, we are having some really bizarre weather here. I don�t know who came up with the idea of global warming but I reckon that�s horsepoo because it�s nearly mid April and it�s sodding freezing here. This morning I could have done with an ice-pick never mind a can of antique anti-freeze and a plastic scraper to sort the car out. And on Saturday, one minute we had lovely sunshine and the next minute we had hailstones the size of garden peas pelting down, which confused the dog no end. He sat under the garden table barking at them and batting them with his paws, occasionally jumping on one that had the audacity to stray into his under-table territory.
Talking of Saturday, had a very good night on Saturday. My best friend Cass and I went to Charlotte and Anna�s house for a �couple of drinks� and a chat. 5 bottles of wine and half a bottle of random Greek peach schnapps later and we were in full bitch, making a list of people we�d put on a one way space mission (Geri Halliwell and Elizabeth Hurley came out top in case you�re interested) and discussing why it is that all the Pussycat Dolls ever sing about is how fantastically gorgeous and irresistible they are when in fact they are a collection of ropey old tarts. We eventually staggered home at 2am. I managed to unlock the front door, fell over the dog and went to bed fully clothed and still wearing full makeup. When I woke up on Sunday morning I can safely say that I was not going to win any prizes for beauty or class and I suspect I may have smelled like a brewery. I think it was the Greek schnapps that was our undoing. It�s one of those vicious circles, if you�re as pissed as a newt there is no way you should be drinking peach flavoured Greek paint-stripper but you�d have to be plastered before you�d even consider touching the stuff. Ah well.
Anyway, I should probably go and do some work before I end up unemployed but I will have to make an effort to be less of a lazy bitch and update more regularly. And also to drink less and stay well away from chemically enhanced European liquors but before I go I recommend that if anyone has a few minutes to spare they have a scout at this . this. This is a bids clerk for an auction house who, to raise money for the Woodland Trust has moved into the woods. He's quite literally living under a piece of tarpaulin slung between 2 trees and then tootling off to the office during the day. Madness.
