What the hell do you write if the best you can come up with so far from the week, is waking up, going to work, and then going home? A blog is an ongoing narrative and therefore requires the finest in writing material to keep the people coming back for more and more. Failing that, some lols and writing in txt speak about how everything is s5it.

Never mind, perhaps something will come in my next outrage about something which is in the grand scheme of things of little concern to most people. Like those darned elves or why bread never lasts more than 5 minutes when you blowtorch the thing.

Mind you, I have gotten tired of the homeless people taking one look at my shoes and deciding I have money. If they saw my bank balance, that would say actually, he doesn’t. It’s at the point now, where basically I’ll have start thinking about asking them for a spare 50p.

The only difference truly is, that I go to work to not be homeless, and at least to keep some money coming in so the bank doesn’t cry and then they make me cry. Why don’t they do that?

Bugger me, that sounds heartless. I’ve become a southerner…merde.

Well given a choice, and the sad fact is, that no matter what happens, I still haven’t got a pot to wee in once again, I’m taking the night off tonight from doing nothing, and instead am braving the outdoors of drunk city workers and “happy they got more money, cos they’re greedy b******ds” tube workers, to watch Get Smart, the film which they say is not very funny. Well it was either that or messing myself over Zool or whatever that thing with Adam Saddle is called.

Maybe I should investigate that growth on my elbow while I’m busy at it?