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Dreadful Nonsense

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

A new fun thing y'all can do on airplanes to amuse and entertain yourself, while at the same time horrifying everyone sitting around you and making their flight as uncomfortable as possibe: Just after all the safety proceedures have been gone through, the air stewards have closed all the over head lockers, the lights have been switched off (if you're flying at night) and you're about to go zoom up the runway, you should grab a steward's attention by any means necessary and ask them for a sick bag.

Then sit back and watch as all around you become increasingly uncomfortable at the thought of being strapped into a small metal tube sitting right beside someone who's about to barf at any moment.

Makes the whole wanting-to-vomit thing seem worthwhile. Honest it does.

I didn't throw up in the end, it has to be said. I waited until landing, because I'm very polite and ladylike, and have a surprising control over my gag reflex.

Today so far has been spent having some really surreal dreams (brought on by my anti-nausea tablets) involving armies of female jack russel puppies trained to obey my every command, and having my hand bitten off by a giant lizard, and then coming to Oxford Street for absolutely no reason other than the fact that I couldn't think of anywhere else to go and HMV seemed a good idea at the time.

London was sunny and hot earlier. Now it's not so sunny but still hot. I might go somewhere there aren't so many people for a while.

Later on tonight my boyfriend is taking me up the eye.

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