Our kitchen keeps getting flooded in the middle of the night, especially when me Mum and Dad go to bed early, and we don't even live in Somerset. The flood waters round here smell of piss too, which is a bit odd. As Toyah would say, It's A Mystery. Or was it a Mythtory? Me Dad says not to worry too much about this Somerset lot though, apparently they're so inbred down there that even if the water goes above head height they'll still be able to breathe using their rudimentary gills. We were watching the telly last night and there was this appeal on for money to help South American victims of Hypertrichosis, which is a disease which causes excessively abnormal hair growth in kids, known informally as Werewolf Syndrome. Apparently, just £3/month can rid South America of this dreadful, debilitating affliction. Send a cheque to the Shave the Children Fund. Woof.
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.