Poor Dirty Temp

Woke up this morning to Kevin complaining about the lack of hot water. Looks like our boiler is down again - the third time in the last couple of months. The landlord promised to replace it. In the meantime, it's me, my bag and the gym's shower room. But not today. Oh no. Today, I'm impeccably dirty. And grumpy.

Woke up with hair that would make Robert Smith die of envy. Sadly, no lipstick smudges. Ate a poorly breakfast of toast and juice while staring at the pigeons in our courtyard. Took the No.18 bus to work with my head itching for a good shampoo. I wonder if I stink? I chopped garlic last night.

Must go and send a package to Felix now. I bet the cafeteria has smelly soup today. Or a nice tuna sandwich and a bottle of rum.

I will be collecting my contact lenses after work. Then, Kevin and I will take a bus or tube to Kentish Town and visit the Owl Bookstore. Literary eveving viv a vriend ov vis vrom Goldsviths.

I like the word Barmy used in a bitchy context. It's very British.

As seen in enrapture

In celebration of Bush's inauguration, here's a little game for you:

Drag Bush By the Nose