Sunday 8th May

I've had a busy weekend, by my standards.

Friday evening - took car for oil/filter change, came back home, developed a hideous tension headache and evaporated into a cocktail of Nurofen express and red wine (note to self: never do this again).

Awoke on Saturday morning feeling a little better, but was forced to get off my arse and take car to tyre doctor - big fuck-off nail in front tyre.  Thankfully, they repaired for the princely sum of £7.

Saturday morning, sahayed into Newcastle with Miss Underscore to indulge on window-shopping and Nando-fuelled hedonism (lunch).  Was served by the rather lascivious 'Paolo', who insisted upon calling me 'Madam Noir' the whole time.  He lured us in with the offer of free chicken and went back on his promise - typical bloke.  Not the first time cock has been offered to me gratis, only to end up disappointed.

Saturday afternoon, glorious post-Newcastle nap time.  Woken by a text from gay hairdresser to ask if I fancied takeaway/wine/chat in the absence of his partner (who was visiting his mother in France).  I accepted, got ready and drove over to his flat.  I chewed his ear off about my appalling luck in the love department.  We had a takeaway, listened to Kylie on his £7000 (he says) Bang & Olufsen stereo and collapsed into our (separate) beds at 2am-ish.

Sunday morning - bloody birds (of the feathered variety, sadly) woke me up at 5am.  I struggled to get back to sleep as demi-hangover was just about kicking in at that point.  Arose at 9ish, showered and waited for my host to awake - which he did at around 10.30am.  We chatted about the fact that he had contacted (via Facebook) my ex.  Oh, forgot to mention that, on the back of this contact, ex texted me at 2am to ask how I was.  The reason for this contact after almost 7 months of nothingness??  The fact that my hairdresser had told her that my oldest friend (who she also knew) has cancer.  We exchanged pleasantries, but can't say that it will be something I would expect to be repeated.  She has moved on and is doinking someone else (who, incidentally, looks a bit 'bonkers').

Sunday afternoon - went for lunch/shopping with my oldest friend.  Came home, straight into bed with glass of red wine and DVD (episode of 'Extras' featuring Les Dennis - the one where Ricky Gervais plays the camp genie).  Then shouted and banged on window at some louts who threw a pizza box in the street.  They just laughed at me and chucked the box down anyway.  I wish them all dead - wankers.  I had to go into the street myself to pick it up and dispose of it.  People are shit.  Fact.  Will be having an early night tonight - up at 5am to get 7am train to fucking London - probably going to find out that I'm losing my job (seriously).  Bring it fucking well on.  Give me the money and I will dance out of the place like Michael Flately.  Fact.