The last week or so has been a wash. The weather keeps cranking up towards the sort of heat that would drive you from the beach to the air-conditioned bar, where drinks and crap telly await. MS keeps peeking over the burning hill, takes a deep breath, and then mutters, “Best sleep that off, eh? “ and shuts everything down. Bugger. Having said that, the dreams have been great. I say this, not as a precursor to boring the life out of anyone reading, but because I didn’t dream at all for two decades. I only started dreaming again in the last year or two.
Its great innit? Nightmares aside, I get to walk around with none of the problems that fuck me over whilst I’m awake. I know too much sleep is bad, but it is a lot of fun.
Reviews:
Bedsit Disco Queen Tracey Thorn. This memoir is so good, I got her follow up Naked At The Albert Hall, immediately after I'd finished it.
Daredevil. Didn’t watch it for ages. I don’t like superhero bollocks. I was wrong, this is great!
Would You Rather? Horror film on Netflix. Cack.
And , I did describe an arsey bloke as, “Two cocks shy of a smile.”
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