shat
Speaking of which, this place is a right tip. Newspaper, plates, cans strewn everywhere. I shall have to clean before my sister comes over to do laundry tomorrow and reports me. She's like that. I can't trust her. She's joined the other side. She is one with the parental unit. Yuck. Whatever happened to loyalty?
So Richard's band has been tipped in the newspaper by Stuart as the next big thing. After one show! Lordy. I should perhaps mention that the last band he tipped as the next big thing was Franz Ferdinand, and look where they ended up. No pressure or anything of course.
Ah, but if that was the only pressure, Richard just said. (He's online now! As I type! Is this real time excitement or what?) They're opening for another Belle on Friday and... (*snip snip snip* I've been asked to edit this out as it's all top secret. ack. sorry.) We'll see if anything comes of it. For their sake, I hope so. And for mine too, of course. I've always secretly wanted to date a rock star. Ha! Actually I'd just be happy to see him play at least once. Besides my personal performances in the bedroom. Er... that sounded raunchy. I meant bass guitar practice. Of course.
What else? Hmmm. Nothing. I'm boring. Haven't started writing the book yet. (Ha!) But I did apply for two jobs in Glasgow. Impressed? You should be. I'm fucking lazy. Maybe I should snatch the job as dot to dot's PR person while it's still available.
Also I remembered my knitting. My sister's scary bright pink scarf will never be done in time for her birthday next month at this rate. Nor Kate's gorgeous purple one. And that has to travel all the way to Australia. Shit.
This is the first night I've been awake before 7pm in ages. I should take advantage of the situation to watch some trash TV while gorging on chips and salsa and beer. Yeah! Bye then.
