Friday, 8th June 2001.
Hi kids, it's been mental over here in old Blighty. My dedicated readers
(hi Mum) would have noticed that I haven't updated the site in any shape or form
for the last week. As hard as it is to imagine, I've been working hard. I've been
typing flat-out all day every day for a week.
Added to this, my life has been strangely sane for the last fortnight. Well, there
have been a couple of *ahem* indiscretions, but nothing y'all need to know
about. (No Mum I'm not in trouble.) Sigh. I am expecting my usual
ridiculous existence to recommence shortly, for reasons which could well become
apparent next week.
So what's happening in London other than my unspectacular existence? Well
Monkey-boy Blair was re-elected yesterday by the percentage of the local populace
who could be bothered voting. (Honestly, we've elected some right drongoes in
Australia, but at least they don't look like monkeys.)
Umm, I don't think anything else has been happening over here! Apparently
the English soccer team beat another ordinary soccer team, which made the locals
And finally, a picture I've lifted from The Sun website:
What's all that about? Well The Sun sent out three sheilas with informed
views on politics, and let the readers decide on which one had the best tits.
(I think it was a Tory landslide.)
(she's the one in blue, by the way.)