There is an argument that Come Dine with Me is the greatest program ever on television. Now is not the time for that argument, but it's there.
It's like a late summer day in February. I hung my washing out and it mostly dried. You like to think you are over the hump of winter but its probs hiding around the corner just waiting to fuck you up.
I seem to be interested in The Division 2 to the extent I have spent £92 on it. Who knew?
Other than that, a day off. Did a bit of shopping and walked the dog. Played some games that I didn't really enjoy and planned for when I am abandoned.
An all night party with supermodels (well not supermodels as they all seem like a bunch of cunts but pretty 'girl next door types') lots of drugs and a bottle or two of spirits. I am not sure what spirits as I don't seem to like them any more but some. It will have to be done. I will have to invent a program that locks out all form of communication for that night otherwise things could be bad. They have been before and they will be again.
Or I could just not drink and be super lonely.
Everyone I vaguely don't know will have chosen that night not to do anything. Every other night they pop off for a curry or something. Not that night. Oh know. There is something good on Netflix that night and they can't possibly watch it any other night.
Oh well supermodels, drugs, alcohol and murder it is then.
I might just sack that off and try and play a game through from start to finish.
My easy girl book seems to be taking forever to finish. I read it and put it down and a magic gypsy writes 3 more chapters. It's ok but I want it to be done. My mind is wanting something challenging to read which I will of course read half a page of and put down for eternity.
Oh well. Off to make a cup of tea. I have only seen this Come Dine with Me twice and it has a semi acceptable 'girl next door' type with red hair and (gulp) glasses. And it is the greatest program ever on television.
I might write some beatnik poetry tomorrow. Be exited. Both of you.
It's like a late summer day in February. I hung my washing out and it mostly dried. You like to think you are over the hump of winter but its probs hiding around the corner just waiting to fuck you up.
I seem to be interested in The Division 2 to the extent I have spent £92 on it. Who knew?
Other than that, a day off. Did a bit of shopping and walked the dog. Played some games that I didn't really enjoy and planned for when I am abandoned.
An all night party with supermodels (well not supermodels as they all seem like a bunch of cunts but pretty 'girl next door types') lots of drugs and a bottle or two of spirits. I am not sure what spirits as I don't seem to like them any more but some. It will have to be done. I will have to invent a program that locks out all form of communication for that night otherwise things could be bad. They have been before and they will be again.
Or I could just not drink and be super lonely.
Everyone I vaguely don't know will have chosen that night not to do anything. Every other night they pop off for a curry or something. Not that night. Oh know. There is something good on Netflix that night and they can't possibly watch it any other night.
Oh well supermodels, drugs, alcohol and murder it is then.
I might just sack that off and try and play a game through from start to finish.
My easy girl book seems to be taking forever to finish. I read it and put it down and a magic gypsy writes 3 more chapters. It's ok but I want it to be done. My mind is wanting something challenging to read which I will of course read half a page of and put down for eternity.
Oh well. Off to make a cup of tea. I have only seen this Come Dine with Me twice and it has a semi acceptable 'girl next door' type with red hair and (gulp) glasses. And it is the greatest program ever on television.
I might write some beatnik poetry tomorrow. Be exited. Both of you.
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