The state of stuff.

This week. Three gigs. Two paid.

What shall I buy with the profits? A dragon! That would be pretty cool. I could keep it in a little bag that I could carry about with me a la Paris Hilton, and then when people were nice to me I'd let them stroke it and it would purr, and when they were mean to me I'd make it breathe fire at them and singe their eyebrows! Or maybe I'll get a new coat.

I'm doing a gig on Saturday night at the Academy For People So Much More Discipline Than Me It Is Laughable. Because they're having a Fancy Ball of some kind. Which means all the girls will have much nicer dresses than me, even though mine's only five years old and therefore just a wee pup of a dress. I have learnt that when I mistakenly arrive at occasions where people are a lot posher than me, I inevitably have dress-inadequacy issues which only serve to make me drink lots and tell bad jokes. Hang on, I'm not sure that's the dress-inadequacy doing that. But anyway.

Then I'm singing at a posh party the next day. In Gloucester. Which is somewhere that isn't London. Apparently the people whose party this is are BILLIONAIRES.

You know like in Annie? When Annie says to Grace with eyes like ginger curly saucers "What? Mr Warbucks the millionaire?" and Grace smiles down at her with the smile of a woman who is sleeping with her very rich boss and tinkles "No. Daddy Warbucks the BILLIONaire!". That sort of thing.

I always felt like she didn't really need to say that, though. Annie doesn't care, really, does she? She's a fucking orphan for fuck's sake. A million, a trillion, a fiver, she doesn't know the difference. Grace is just showing off, and frankly, I don't find it very becoming.

Er. Anyway, so I'm doing this gig on Sunday for billionaires, so I am going to steal some silver or at least a bread roll or something because, come on. If you've got a billion you're not going to really miss a fork are you? Or a wholemeal bap? No.

So, including the one tomorrow that's three. You can come to tomorrow's if you want. Check out the details on my other site.

Apart from the gigs I am tired as I went out last night and had some beer and then a jug of mojito. Not all to myself, though, so I'm alright.

Do you ever get that creeping feeling that you've just spent far too many minutes of your life writing a meaningless post that seems to be suspiciously full of references to films starring curly haired children with cheeky grins and an exciting-when-you're-under-ten-and-let's-face-it-still-now helicopter sequences at the end?

No, me neither.

I think I definitely prefer The Sound Of Music. Except the bit when the old nun sings Climb Ev'ry Mountain because it's really boring, although it's actually quite exciting because she's really telling Maria to go forth and have lots of the sex with the Captain. He he. Climb Ev'ry Mountain. Good one, sister.

Mary Poppins, though, has the advantage of having Dick Van Dyke in it. And his 'cockney' accent. And the DANCING! Is a joy.

There's a part of me that knows I should just stop typing because this post is becoming increasingly like a James Blunt song (that is, boring and more than a little irritating) only with possibly less mention of the word 'beautiful'. The thing is, my fingers won't stop so I'm going to type things that come into my head.

My bra is digging in to me a bit.

Radio 1 gets really boring this time of day.

I have a slight earache.

I think I might quite want a cup of coffee.

I have developed a rather dangerous obsession with writing things in my diary that have already happened so I can tick them off. With a flourish and a small nod of organised satisfaction.

My top five celebrities that I would sleep with are (not necessarily in this order): Zach Braff, Hugh Jackman, Steve Jones (from T4) Johnny Depp and Dave Grohl. Eclectic group, I know. I might exchange Dave for George Clooney.

My foot still hurts.

Today I have a stud in my nose instead of the usual ring.

I just went to get coffee. Mmmm... Coffee is my friend.

I am scared that the guy I wrote about in my last post - the one with the text messaging madness - will be there tomorrow night and that he will be mean to me and I will cry. And I won't even have bought my dragon yet so I won't be able to singe his eyebrows. I am actually genuinely scared about this. Maybe will someone come with me and protect me?

My nails are an interesting shade of blood red. Rest assured, however, it is NOT blood on there, it is, in fact, Rimmel nail varnish.

Er...

I had sushi for lunch. It was nice but I am rubbish at using chopsticks so it took ages for me to eat. I like sticky rice.

I am going to go to bed early tonight. I will possibly also partake of some kind of bath.

This is silly. I'm boring. You say something. What's your favourite colour? If you had to wear the same hat everyday for the rest of your life what sort of hat would it be? And why?