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Dreadful Nonsense

"I've read your blog. it's really funny. you should write a column." - Jon Ronson

I really do feel quite ill this morning.

There's no one in the house, and I don't seem to be able to do more than shuffle around in my big wooly socks, listlessly picking up old newspapers and carrying them from one room to the other. It's my Mum's birthday today you see, and I haven't got around to buying her a present because I am the worst daughter that ever lived, so I've decided that in the meantime I will tidy the house, and buy her a present tomorrow. But I can't, because every time I bend down to pick something up, all the alcohol-poisoned blood in my body rushes to my head, and I have to grab on to something to stop from falling over and dying in a puddle of my own misery.

Mrs Bishop and JC are supposed to be arriving up in a few hours, as a result of something arranged in the pub last night at 1.30am. Now, I have learned many lessons in life, and I think it's usually best to experience things first hand, so that the lesson really sticks, but here's a piece of wisdom that I'm going to share with you all for free, and you can do with it what you like: Never Make Arrangements While In Pubs. They never make sense in the morning, but everyone - maybe because they're too hungover to really think clearly about them - feels like they're committed to carry them out anyway. So at 5pm, Mrs Bishop is arriving, Worcester Sauce in hand, to make cheese toasties for us, and then we're going to sit and watch American Idol.

It just won't work out.

Incidentally, Mrs Bishop last night revealed something of a major crush on funnyman Richard Keith Herring, since she's started stalking him through his weblog. I think her affections for Mr Bishop may be waning somewhat, so there might be a name change lurking on the horizon. And considering the things that she calls me on her blog, I think naming her after a fish (or implying that she's married to an ageing fat English comedian) is still me being quite kind.

Ick. Me not well.

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