Saturday: Hugh Jackman has just been voted sexiest man alive. Now I’ve got a few complaints to register about this, not least the fact that I wasn’t invited to enter. But that aside, how come it’s always a famous movie star or singer who wins this? Why is it never Brian from Rotherham who works in KwikSave? I don’t think unknown people get a chance in these contests, I demand an official inquiry. Rain.
Sunday: One of my housemates is playing the field at the moment, so to speak, but it’s all coming back on him and it’s only a matter of time before it all goes wrong. This weekend he was wining and dining a young lady, reminiscing abut their visit to a pub in central London. The only problem was he didn’t go with that girl but a completely different young lady. He’s playing with fire that boy is, I tell you. Rain.
Next week: I’m supposed to be going ice skating this week but, unfortunately, I have very little balance. I regularly fall off my chair at work – although that’s not a problem any more since we were kicked out of the office, but still I have problems staying upright. Don’t want to make a complete fool of myself and look like Bambi on ice after a few gin and tonics. Might just stick to the sides and try to look as cool as possible. Rain.
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