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Dreadful Nonsense

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

London town and all of it’s scarlet temptations were out in force yesterday as JC dragged me kicking and sometimes actually screaming around all the shops built by the devil to tempt me to sin - HMV and Virgin in Megastore form, shops that sell books and cartoons about vampires, places with plastic toys of utter pointlessness that beg me through the display cases to buy them just because… it all gets too much sometimes.

I’m very pleased to say that I managed not to crack at any point, and made just one purchase, which in actual fact is for Moo on the occasion of her birthday, because she’s a nice lady and deserves to be gifted with gifts.

The other running theme to this weekend that’s emerging so far is the “Shazzle forgets to eat” and the “Let’s all have another drink”. Combining these two factors together on a daily basis has led to a somewhat disoriented Shazzle first thing in the morning, so it’s fortunate that first thing in the morning is replaced by first thing in the afternoon, getting up wise. I’m not a morning person, at all, in any manner, and many people can testify to the scarring experience, both physical and emotional, of being around me first thing. Fortunately, He Who Only… has learnt to stay clear and approach with great caution, waving white flags and cups of tea in order to soothe the raging inner beast. I’m so not used to being forced to get up for anything anymore in my life - RNJ meaning that I don’t have any particular getting up time at all - that when I have to answer the call of the alarm clock it’s having a worse effect than ever before. Bears with sore heads stare at me and mutter to each other that someone needs to take a chill pill.

Still. Tomorrow. Late start, rugby and footie in pub in afternoon. What can possible go wrong?

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