Runaway bride

A few things guys.

Bruce (my tomato plant) has eight little sproglets. You won't care about this, but for me, it's a reason to get up in the morning.

ALSO

Alan made a serious faux pas recently. If you can't remember him (and why would you), the poor little beige man. He's the newest member of the palace I live in, over zealous about running and evening meals.

'What you eating? What's in that? Sausage? Do I smell sausage? I ran an 8 in 4 which is 0.2 seconds off my personal best. Can't go wrong with a bit of sausage.'

SERIOUSLY.

He's actually alright to live with.

Apart from recently we had a fruit fly epidemic. Thank God I had Bruce to look forward to at work, because my mornings were suddenly full of fly spray and sweeping up tiny bodies.

Ginger traced the source to Alan's cupboard and found a liquidized banana.

I emailed Alan, and surprisingly I was quite nice! I managed to squash down my inner bitch for the entire correspondence!

I refrained from saying, 'Are you fucktarded?' and signed off with a lightly comical, 'Wanted to let you know, in case you were looking forward to a banana!'

Ha ha. Ha ha.

I have a lot of friends that go around managing to be nice most of the time, and I don't get it. I observe and try to imitate, but I just can't pull it off.

SOZ.

My app reminds me that I'm getting married in 11 days. I think if I am going to change my mind, pre the 10 day mark is fine, and anything after that is quite disruptive. With this in mind, I'm going to have a long hard think today about whether or not I actually want to do this.

It's about time I asked myself that question.

Shall we put it to a vote?

Or I could flip a coin?

I should consider getting out of it as lightly as I got into it really.

Ohhh, I could take Ginger on Jeremy Kyle, and let Jeremy decide. But maybe he's fed up with having so many angry Geordies' on his show already.

I'll sleep on it.