Foot in Mouth Outbreak.
Mood:  d'oh
Now Playing: Mrs Jones- Hole
Topic: Oops!




Earlier today my work colleagues were gathered round a chain letter type thing debating whether or not it was a hoax. The letter related to a terminally ill cancer sufferer who was aiming to set a record for the worlds largest collection of...
compliment slips.

Well you can imagine my reaction. For fucks sake I said. What an arsehole I said. Imagine being told you've only months to live and deciding to spend your last precious days collecting fucking compliment slips I said. A rare instance of someone who deserves it getting cancer I said. Oh no, the owner of the worlds largest collection of compliment slips is dying, what a terrible fucking loss I cackled.

He's only seven my horrified colleagues replied.

I think I'll stop talking now I said.

Oh the shame!

On a happier note I received an e-mail from a charming female named Pam who links to my blog.
Hurrah! Go and see the fine link in all it's glory on Hurtling Towards Obscurity. While you're there have a read, it is a very fine blog.

Well the evening of tragedy is upon us. Tonight is Zoe Lucker's final episode of Footballers Wives. I think I might book a wee sunbed session by way of a tribute. I have also been advised that Hazel is being written out the show. Are they actively trying to make me stop watching? Why are all the best characters leaving? I demand an explanation.