Woke up far too early on far too little sleep. It really is like being 39. Tea, prayed, gratitude list, then off to my 1 day of work a week, which if you ask me, is 1/2 day too long.
That's when i encountered my 1st problem. I was off to Essex and found out half way there, there was a huge water leak on North Circular which put Brent Cross under 10 feet of water, meant shutting the whole North Circular, meaning chaos, meaning a 3 hour journey for 24 miles. Welcome fucking home. Nice.
Day at work. Yawn
Journey home. Exactly the same, 3 hours, totalling 6 hours to Essex and back. I could have gone to France, Ireland, Scotland. Flown to Dubai for Christ sakes. Instead it was Brent f****g c****g Cross. What a shit hole. In fact I'd be pleased if it all submerged underwater. Like Venice but with more Chicken Cottages. Bastards Brent Cross.
I only wanted to kill myself 6 times during the journey. I did take the chance to practice singing for Saturday and a few gags for Comedy Chops tomorrow, but i would seriously have preferred to read Simon Cowell's autobiography than sit through that shit.
Birthday? What birthday? Holiday? You're joking aren't you? That's well gone. Back to the real world. Tits
Saw a nice sign on in the midst of the Jam though which raised a smile
Why do they always feel the need to advertise psychic fayres? And a psychic fayre in the Turks Head pub Garden, Hendon? MMMM not sure i'll be trying to contact the King in that one.
xx
No comments:
Post a Comment