Bugger.
For the last four mornings I've got out of bed at 4am and just sort of hung around the rather nippy lounge in the house. I've taken to working on the laptop. So by the time most earthlings troll into their saddo offices I've been working around five hours.
This is very tiring, but what to do? Sleep she avoids me like honesty in the South African political system...
Things are occurring in the world.
Young Simon in Cornwall, or Devon, is hosting a naked rave for 70 thugs with assorted drugs and nubiles.
DJ is coming out of the cupboard where he's been for two years, although i only have 5 lines of email to prove this so far.
The mad Dutchman in Germany keeps getting promoted, indeed the more he struggles the worse it gets, i'm sure there's a motto in there somewhere.
Mark & Chisel are moving from London into Suffolk to pamper their children with goats, boats and moats.
Younger Brother's mad bastard wife has given birth to a child named Dominic Bede... i refuse to comment.
Nearer home myself, my ex, her boyfriend, and his ex have formed a kind of Jerry Springer group, it's all very odd and makes me want to sit down occassionally.
Young Paul hates his job. Oddly this is far more common than one would have thought.
We must find a way forward.
Mickey J is going to do a tv series about the tragedy of his trial, poor bairn. Hang on, isn't this how he got into the shite in the first place, if you'll excuse the rather graphic metaphor.

I have to go now, I've been trying to use Picaso or whatever to upload pics to my blog. it's very very very frustrating. And the badgers are antsy, again.