Grr, Argh, and many other aggressive noises

Don't you love it when it' winter, and you're like on the bus, and like all the windows steam up with condensation so you can't see, and then you like, miss your stop. THANKS WEATHER.

So, I've been pretty clumsy recently. I mean I'm usually a mess when it comes to basic movement, and avoiding danger, but I've really stepped it up. I let the wind blow my umbrella into my face. Which is broken by the way (the umbrella, not my face). I lose a spoke a day.

But you know, I've spent £76 on umbrella's so far this year, so I'm not buying a new one. We always ask ourselves - where does all my money go?

I'll tell you: Umbrella's, Barnardos direct debit, lemsip, fucking birthday cards (I'm sorry - but what is it with all these birthdays suddenly?), recently essential survival kit (wellies, rain mac, rope in case need to be pulled out of a puddle by helpful passer by), Groupon (which then fail to use), Activia yoghurts, book on confident public speaking (because noticed legs started doing strange wobbly collapse thing), taxis, Netflix. That's where.

Hey, you what you could do that's really useful?

Spend an hour writing a To-do list on the back of a Morrisons receipt. Then lose the receipt.

Sooooo, I did this really dramatic gesture recently whilst queuing for lunch, and cupped someone's *cough* 'member.'

(Mum, I don't want you thinking that I have some kind of dodgy obsession with men and their trouser snakes. If I'm honest, I don't find them, they come looking for me. I like to think I have a pretty healthy attitude towards sex, and that I'm not some covert pervert. It really was an accident. I know it's hard to believe, but I really hope you can trust me. Maybe we can have a conversation about it next time I'm home?)

Like, one minute, my hand was flying about, and the next minute it was holding something.

I don't know how I get places, as horrifically humiliating as right here.

I've been studying Chavs again. For those of you don't know, I put up a blog a while ago concerning my observations of the modern Chav. I like to take my earphones out on the bus, and just absorb the wisdom. I even make notes.

Does this make me a qualified Sociologist? Yes, I think so too.

So I've got some fascinating findings that I'll share with you soon. I'm not too sure where the notes are. PROBABLY THE SAME PLACE AS THAT FUCKING RECEIPT.

I'm not angry, I'm just disappointed.