Sorry folks, I've been a bit under the weather lately but I'm pleased to report after a full medical that they've found out what's been wrong with me. Apparently I've got Tourettes, whatever the fuck that is, and my constant struggle to "keep it all in" as the Beautiful South would say has apparently been my downfall and caused some sort of blockage. So, from now on I'm under strict medical orders to say it like it pissing bastard well is. I feel better already. Pooh count: six.
You couldn't make it up could you. I spent much of the weekend dozing on the sofa watching telly. Glastonbury was on, although sad to say there was no Snoop Dog, Bone Jovi or any other canine related artists. The big news seemed to be the lack of female headliners and now we know why as one scored a spectacular own goal. She missed her slot cos she was doing her hair. It takes ages she said. Why NOT start doing your hair well before your show time. Aaagh no where's my handbag I've left it in the car, I've got to back to fetch it.