Well, I'm made up! In the car by eight this morning and a phone call to Neeson, half an hour later. I was going to mention my cock but was spared the indignity as he has to have a camera shoved up his bottom.
I'll spare you the details. Needless to say that the conversation was rather graphic and included all sorts of bowel movements. The amount of Red Bull the guy drinks, I'm surprised his intestines haven't prolapsed already!
The rest of the journey wasn't too bad and I chuckled along with Mr. Humphries on Radio 4 as he tore into Neil Kinnock, or Lord Kinnock as he kept reminding everyone. Work was the usual heady mix of phone calls and emails and I was doubly made up to receive two orders in the space of twenty minutes negating the necessity to work any harder for the rest of the day!
Trying to finish Spider Solitaire with two cards within 108 moves has been a target for nearly three weeks now. Still not achieved it.
Back in the car, the General Election was announced which has put everyone in the country in a complete mess. Now everybody cannot make up their minds between butter or margarine, milk or gravy, syphilis or fellatio and the Ménage à trois that is the Labour, Conservative and Liberal parties and their subsequent spin. The worst possible outcome is the "hung" parliament - essentially where all three turn up at a swingers party and, instead of doing any fucking, they sit around comparing knob sizes.
Still, at least I don't have to have anything up my rectum in the near future... not until the next government gets in.
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