If I Were

to say I was sorry for not posting I would not be quite sure to whom I would be saying sorry.

So I shall promptly avoid that and simply go straight on to some Exciting Things! That are Not Exciting At All!

- Cardiff was ace. We stayed at Dan's parents' house, I ate some of their cheese, we watched Grease 2. Great. Also we went for a walk along the sea front in the dark and whipping rain, managed about five minutes of this-isn't-the-city bracingness before ducking into the nearest pub to talk alternately about racism in Celebrity Big Brother ("I hate this conversation" mumbled Dan, eyes fixed on an episode of Top Gear that was rumbling from ill-placed televisions) and the imminent Chinese New Year ("It's the year of the bull!" declared Amy. Some expensive texting to AQA later: "Year of the... boar, they say" asserted someone. "That's what I said! Bull. Boar. Wait, are they different?") Later on we taxied in to the centre of Cardiff, where we all drunk our bodyweight in wine, cocktails and shots and met with Mr Curly, who did not help me stay sober one little bit. It was a fantastic night, and my last memories are of telling a bouncer he looked "about twelve". I think (reassure me on this, Curly) I stopped short of telling him I could "totally take him in a fight". Which I totally could have done.

- I am shortly going to be holding auditions for my band. Anyone who wants to audition please let me know and I shall let you know which costume I desire you to wear. Musical ability is less important than the ability to look good in lycra. It is key to understand that I have my very own special definition of the word 'good'.

- Due to some unexpected emotional upheaval in the last few weeks I have been running too much and too far. Everyday I have been stapping on the (four) (I am not joking) sports bras and heading off to run to open spaces and scream 'fuck' as loudly as I can. My whole body is aching, but unless I keep running my head explodes, so I have little choice. Would I rather a) walk like a malformed crab or b) have no head? What a choice. On the upside, though, all the mud around recently makes running a very, very satisfying experience. The more mud I get spattered as far up my legs as possible, the more points I get. And points, as we all know, mean absolutely nothing at all.

I have nothing else to say, so I leave you with a joke I read the other day:

"I was in bed with my girlfriend the other day, and she turned to me and said "You're such a pervert."
I said "That's a big word for a nine year old." "

I know. But it made me laugh, and not even guiltily, so there.