Wednesday

That is pretty much how excited I am today; I can't even bring myself to think of a decent title for this post. I've been taking a bit of a break from thinking about this diary/blog thing just because I can, and to be frank, I have been a little bit lost for words recently. Aside from it being practically Christmas, practically sacking time from work, and more importantly, practically the time when I no longer have to see the majority of these halfwits again, my days are practically pretty bloody empty. Lots gets done in the evenings when Mr and Mrs Lagomorph are united once more, but the daytime seems to slowly slip by in a perpetual fug of stinky boredom and nothingness. Yesterday I spent two hours playing Zelda on my gameboy. This isn't constructive is it? I also updated my Keane-hate page (PLUG ALERT! Go there now!) which more and more people are looking at - Yay! - so I can't be alone in despising them.


I have another job interview today. It's for a better job than the last one, which I have in the bag as a backup, so I actually want this one. I should be fine but I'm not going to count my chickens. Once I've done this post I'll do an hour or so of revising up on things I've done but completely forgotten about in the last month of mind numbing nothingness, so that I actually have something to talk about. I don't think I've got anything to worry about to be honest, but I shall let you all know how I've done as soon as I find out, rest assured.

Oh joy of joys! We had the pleasure of witnessing Zoe Ball doing her grocery shopping last night. She was doing her best impression of a tramp, although this was most probably a desperate attempt to appear as normal as possible, you know, to blend in with the commoners. It didn't work. Everybody in Waitrose knew who she was, who she shagged, what her kid looked like, what she looked like with her bits out on some beach in Spain. Plus she was buying enough food to last through the apocalypse and on to the start of a new human civilisation. As Mrs Lagomorph pointed out most observedly, she probably tries to shop as few times as possible to avoid multiple being-stared-at-by-shitloads-of-people scenarios. Which is a good point. If it was me I'd get Tesco or Marks and Sparks to deliver my food. F*** going shopping with the plebs. Not that Waitrose is full of plebs. Well. They don't think they're plebs but we know better don't we? Half the stuck up gits (and Waitrose IS full of stuck up gits) treat the place like their own personal convenience store and leave their trolley parked across aisles, wander in front of you while you're trying to select parsnips, meander round with their mobiles glued to their faces in a haze of ponciness, and generally act like they're on a photo shoot for Elle, when in fact all they've done is nipped out for a packet of fags and a tin of spam. Then there are the people behind the tills. Some are nice enough, and I am extremely grateful to the short-sighted lady who gave me pound coins rather than ten pence pieces in my change the other day, but some are just plain weird. One brain surgeon, while checking for a barcode on a plant in a small vase, tipped the vase over to check the base, completely forgetting that the vase was a) only in a bag, and b) full of water. She didn't even notice when water drenched her conveyor belt. I suppose that's what sitting at a till for eight hours a day does to you. Another chap, in what may be a masterstroke of devious invention, has honed the art of annoying the crap out of everyone he serves by talking nonsense incessantly at them. He does this all the time. Every single customer. We avoid him like the plague, and his queue is always shorter than everyone else's. Either he has planned this and is an evil genius, or he actually LIKES talking to people and it's really a bit sad to see that everyone else avoids him because they DON'T LIKE talking. Either way, it's always amusing to see the facial expression of someone who thought they'd picked the shortest queue, only to realise after about ten seconds that they would have to suffer the intolerable ramblings of this maniac for the next few minutes. They won't be going in his queue again.

I really want to put MP3's on this site, but blatantly can't (thanks for the advice Mike) so will be using the next few weeks to search for a decent host I can move to. If anyone has any recommendations or advice they can throw my way please do. I haven't got a clue what to look for really, and as is usually the case, I think I'm right to assume that cheaper is not necessarily more cheerful. Help!

And feel free to keep your competition guesses coming in. At the moment nobody has come close to unmasking the bastards responsible, but Blazin Squad and Frank Sinatra have made me laugh the most so are in line for the bivouac of their choice. We shall have a winner by Christmas...