The God's must be having a right laugh (and I expect you are too Constant Reader). Not only do they create me 6'8", gay and a Wiccan. They then cause my life to be one long, badly written American sitcom. Yesterday after being abused by Mrs soon-to-be O'Shea, I was paid by cheque (oh how I laughed!!), then some how I managed to drop my work shirt on the way home. I noticed it was gone about 200 metres after I'd dropped it just in time to see some thieving arabs (no not as in middle eastern its a British phrase a-RABs) running off with it. I did my best impression of Basil by jumping up and down waving my arms while growling incomprehensibly.
Rather fowlornly I walked home checking my bank account on the way, at which point I began laughing hysterically scaring a young family and a old lady.
Anyway spent a Friday night in (still only my 9th in ten months!!).
Its Stephens 20th birthday today. Have done my duty by calling him. He says I'm the only person he can rely on. How can I break up with him when he says things like that?
Ordered the Living End from Blackstar.co.uk more of which tommorrow. Am having the day off "sick" as I'm tired of working all weekend.