So, I've been watching Anne Frank and quite frankly, if a bloody 13 yr old, with quite DREADFUL hair can do a good diary about living in an attic for ages that people having been 'raving' about for years then a 3@ yr old with a much better barnet (on a good day) and a front door I can walk out of every day, should be able to manage it.
Um, is that offensive? Larks knows, but anyhoot...
It's 7th of January 2009 (jesus, when did this happen, shouldn't we all be wearing moonboots to work and holidaying at the bottom of the sea by now? I'm sure I saw that on Tomorrow's World ages ago), so it's resolution time. Urgh.
However, in spirit of keeping up with those communist womens' magazines who tell you not to diet and "love youself as you are" then try and flog you backstreet boob jobs and fanny tucks from page 112 onwards, I have constructed a small and hopefully manageable list:
January is official NO BOOZING month
This is TOTALLY DO-ABLE. I did it last year. Well, got to about the 16th then buckled over a glass of vin rougue. BUT made up for it, by then self flagelating and not drinking to 16th of Feb to set an example of myself.
I will stop eating meat for good
Also EASY. As only have meat when drunk now. Unfortunately, this usually takes the form of something rank from one of those salmonella vans on street corners, or pretend Unlucky Fried Kitten shops that litter South London that is actually deep fried knee caps, when i do eat meat is SUPER BAD. So this must stop. I say a firm, but polite 'no thank you' to horrid meat takeaways from now on.
I will do 10k under 1 hour
aha, aha, ahahahahahahahahahahaha!!
no, i will. That tall thin famous wee-wee (but i wish it had been a pooh really) by the side of the road lady ran with a broken bloody leg. Surely I can do a paltry 6 miles in 60 minutes? Hmm, we'll revisit this one in a few weeks.......
I will move myself and my sweetheart to Brighton
OK, I'm cheating now. The flat is already up to let. It's really nice if you're interested. Garden and everything.......
Keep up this blogging lark
I am not a secret prostitute, a massive shagging slag (i mean, honestly - her PARENTS would have read that) or do anything particularly interesting, but have meant to do one for years, before it was mainstream (that tells you how behind the curve I am) and I've got to get on this bloody bandwaggon before it's discovered I'm not really using Twitter yet either.