[i don’t want to be the monster in this relationship anymore]
and a signed programme [to add to my ever-growing famous comedian memorabilia, which may come in useful one day when I’m poor and need some things to sell on eBay].
Oh, and the above picture, taken courtesy of my mobile [flashless] phone.
Of course, I spent the entire week leading up to this bemoaning the fact that I was going to miss the Eurovision Song Contest. Bah! I don’t think I’ve ever missed watching Eurovision live, complete with bottle of vodka in one hand and munchies in the other. Thank goodness for hard drives in DVD-recorders that enable me to condense three hours worth of recording into an hour and a half, even if it did mean missing Terry’s dry humour. I love Eurovision. I love the way it makes me laugh, and the way certain countries always vote for other certain countries, and how it’s so obvious that nobody likes us [the United Kingdom] …
My main argument against us [the United Kingdom] being a part of Europe is the Eurovision Song Contest. We’re just not like them.
Thursday saw me miss the first seven housemates enter the Big Brother house. Damn those Year 11s and their presentation evening, and their tears, and their cake, and their smelly parents. Still, I’m all caught up now, and I love Pete. Yes, I do. Like some lovesick teenager.
So, let’s see. Eurovision is over for another year, Big Brother has started, the Year 11s have left, it’s almost half-term [one more week, one more week, one more week], I have a new England t-shirt in preparation for the World Cup, and it’s raining …
Summer is here.
Time to watch last nights episode of Doctor Who, methinks.
please God bless this quintessentially this-side-of-the-pond post xxx Elsabeth