May 23rd, 2005


'Now We're All Alive Again, For Weeee Are The Irish...'

The agony of listening to my mother for a full hour last night must have performed a 'kill or cure' treatment on me. When she stopped for breath, I took advantage of an opportunity to complain, croaking feebly that I hadn't eaten in two days, and didn't feel I could ever face solid food again. 'Oh, that's good!' she rejoined with genuine enthusiasm.
Yesssssssh, we 'ates 'er, don't we...
Wotan is lounging on top of the monitor,with one paw draped very camply onto the screen. What a handsome old devil he is.
It's weird not having TODAY in the background. (24-hour strike on the BBC-) People are talking about architecture, and it's far too early for such things.
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Never Say Anything Optimistic...

It came back this afternoon,no end in sight. (Won't Mummy be pleased?) I should've bought some bloody Immodium or something when I was out, but I really thought I was OK.
Oh, how very disgusting and grievous, and there's nothing good on TV.