Yes, that's right. A spoon. All the better to get the sticky stuff out of all the brown nooks and crannies. And then I dig the rest out with my finger and lick it off. Creme eggs. I'm talking about creme eggs.
In case you'd forgotten, its Easter. Again. Surprisingly. And it is great, not 1 but TWO bloody bank holiday. TWO lie ins, and 4 nights worth of lazy drinking. Easter is also the end of Lent. Also known as the end of 6 weeks of purgatory for the crazy fools who think that it's a good idea to give up chocolate/cake/alcohol/anything remotely fun and make the rest of us sane, sensible willpower-lacking folks feel guilty. Which perhaps is just me. I love easter bank holiday. Its one of those holidays that reminds me of school + the sheer excitement of summer coming. It's all about crap on the tellybox and the legalised consumption of EXCESSIVE amounts of chocolate. And best of all it links back to a pagan fertility festival. (eggs = fertility symbol = shagging in the fields = encourage crops to grow = weird farmer logic).
So effectively a holiday celebrating chocolate and sex. I know that this post is probably massively sacriligious to any practising Christians. But I doubt there are any practising Christians reading this blog. I may have alienated them several weeks ago after talking about gin and lingerie and lesbians. Not things the Church of England is known for. But then again celebrating someone rising from the dead is slightly odd too.
Back to the vague plot of this thread - easter and holidays - I thought I'd actually go completely off the point and just say that I am still really unnerved by people actually reading this blog. I mean really, you must be crazier than I am. And to find it funny? Actually its reassuring that I am not alone in my sense of humour. *thinks for second* Unless you're laughing at me.... not with me.... Anyway, as I seem to be suffering writers block (think the writing equivalent of pee shyness, you know what I'm talking about), I'm going to pretend you're not there. I am not sure what the blogging equivalent of sticking my fingers in my ears and going laa laa laaa is - but I'm currently doing that.
The flat, is a mess. I mean really, its a total shithole. And did I do any tidying tonight. Did I bugger. Instead I have talked to the weird people who live inside my computer for approximately 3 hours. I haven't even gotten around to watching last night's episode of The Apprentice on iplayer. Although I know who got the finger of god pointed at them - the weirdy one with the beard. Who has decided, in spectacular fit of self-delusion, that suralun fired him because he was jealous of said beard. What a load of bollocks. Perhaps you were fired for being a shite, whiny, pathetic little person. Although I am more amused by the fact that some eejit (possibly also, at this very moment being taken into a boardroom somewhere in White City) put a link on the BBC Apprentice website, yesterday MORNING, showing who got fired. Yes, well done, reveal the part of the programme that they spend the whole 59 minutes building up to, about 9 hours too early.
In fact, its been a bit of a week for funny fuck ups and silly news. The main contender for prize pillock of the week has to be the Met Chief who accidently revealed to an entire SQUADRON of hacks + paps the contents for some sort of anti-terrorism secret mission - by holding it up in front of him as he exited his car yesterday. Well done you sir. Its been a month of embarrasing mishaps for the Met as a whole - not only do they fail to catch mass rapists, but it seems, they can't keep secrets. In fact, I seem to recall they have also lost several key discs with prisoner information on them. Why they even bother showing up to work I don't know. Perhaps its some sort of work bingo - 1pt for turning up to work drunk, 5 pts for mislaying evidence and 10pts for revealing everything about your case to the general public?
In other silly news, apparently PMT causes women to go shopping.....
Yes, really, shopping. er hello, like women need a REASON? A man surely came up with this logic. A man whose wife has nicked his credit card and run amok in Selfridges possibly - and can't really understand why she had nothing to wear, so blamed it on that old fail-safe reason, her female hormones. Why not put us all in an asylum and treat us with giant dildos for hysteria like the Victorians did.....
And finally, oral sex gives you throat cancer. Now if thats not a good reason to get out of it, I don't know what is. (Am sure you are sympathising with SB at this point - I'm not that much of a bitch really - birthdays, anniversaries + Xmas) I imagine a female doctor came up with that one. I wonder if it covers *all* oral sex. Its not like women need deep throating. You know, I really need to stop this one here.
So I'll leave you to it. Blogging may be intermittent over the Easter break. But think of me lying down, struggling to cram in one more mini egg and unable to decide what to watch on the sky+. It's a tough job but someone's got to do it - and I'm the woman for the job. Thank you and good night.
Stupidgirl has left the building