After all the excitement of Pudsey the dog winning BGT i had a lay in. He has been insured for £1million and Simon Cowell is taking him over to Hollywood on his private yacht. It seems that opening statement is true. Barely believable when you read it, but A dog is a star. God help us. Not sure the result would have been the same in Korea though. Pudsey would definately be starring. Just In a soup.
I was a bit cream crackered so i did an ultra slow 40 minute run up to Richmond park. I went up Richmond Hill slower than my nan on a stanner stairlift. It was painful.
Rest of the day was spent eating a long lazy lunch in a posh Gastro pub. You always know it;s going to be OK when you get a waiter Gayer than George Michael at a Frankie Goes to Hollywood Reunion. Nice lunch and i was enticed by the Triple Cooked chips. I was excited. I fucking loves them! boil, freeze, bake, freeze, then fry is an ultra long process to produce the perfect chip. Soft and fluffy on the inside and crispy on the out. They are genuinely a thing of beauty. Sod leggings and High Heels, triple cooked chips is where it's at.
So when they came out thicker than anyone on The Only Way is Essex, soggier than a brass' snatch and lumpier than varicose veins, i was gutted.
That is it for today. it's ultra dull and i have no chat. I've also developed RSI in my fingers and arms through years of compulsive Sex Texting so it's a struggle to write. What a modern twat of an injury. I am ashamed and ultra embarrassed. In the old days men were injured for falling off Steeples or lathes or from War. Now we get a painful arm through texting. Embarrassing.
I'm off to email Stephen Hawkins to ask if their is an elaborate way to sex text by Voice. I think that one is on the Iphone 5
x
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