Still crap

Gah. I am officially one of the most rubbish bloggers of all time. When I started this I planned to try and write something at least every other day, and have blatantly failed to keep to that. I apologise sincerely. I can't even blame it on the broadband, as that seems to have sorted itself out at long bloody last. All it is is that I am stupendously busy and by the time I've done everything I need to do I haven't got the mental capabilities to try and write something comedic or, for the matter, interesting. However, I'm well overdue an update and so will try and give you a round up of recent events without sending you to sleep. This entry may well be somewhat disjointed though, as I am writing it while watching this crazy Derek Acorah programme on Living TV. He appears to be possessed and thinks he's being beheaded, and it is nothing short of hysterical.

In short, sorry I've been so crap; and sorry that I've been rubbish at commenting on others' blogs. Normal service will hopefully be resumed shortly. Mind you, I've heard that's what TfL said about the Victoria Line this morning, so I wouldn't get your hopes up.

Thanks very much to Dave, by the way, for linking me in his Sunday Service entry. I always feel rather bad when I go on Dave's blog, as it makes me realise how many blogs in this country are enormously interesting, passionate and well informed; whereas in mine I just bang on about meatballs and television. Still, as my workplace constantly reminds me, we must 'value diversity', so sod it. Tomorrow: an in-depth analysis of The Sooty Show!

So, what have I been doing? Find out all the facts here!

1. "Jocular: a Scottish vampire"

I was unbelievably lucky to get tickets to the recording of I'm Sorry I Haven't A Clue on Sunday night at the Victoria Theatre. It was fantastic - Rob Brydon took the place of the late, great Willie Rushton and was more than a match for the others. We also got to see Tim Brooke-Taylor's marvellous use of the swanee whistle. I cannot tell you how much I want a swanee whistle now, to annoy my workmates with. However, Humph was in a bit of a state. He had a rather nasty cough which at his age probably isn't something to take lightly. Poor Humph. He's one of the sharpest fellows in entertainment, and the day he has to give up ISIHAC will be a sad one.

2. "Gah! We don't need a milk pan!"

Tremendous fun and games between the Fiance and I this week, as we have been doing our wedding list. We didn't actually want one, what with it being quite a lot to ask for people to haul ass out to Australia for Christmas and New Year; but a large faction of family and friends who can't make it out have been badgering us about what we want for presents, and have been making ominous noises about choosing their own gift for us. There are only so many carriage clocks I can cope with, so we decided to bite the bullet and have a list. However, it is much more difficult than we thought it would be. Can one really ask for a set of pudding moulds and be taken seriously? Is asking for a Roomba just outing myself as someone who hates the manual activity of pushing the bloody Dyson round and so instead gets a battery operated beetle to do it for them? Do we actually need any more cushions? Oh well, nobody has to actually buy any of it.

3. "Now, don't lose any more weight."

Ha! Bwahaha! Was my reaction to this statement by the lovely lady in my wedding dress shop. Nobody has ever said this to me. Ever. However, recent stresses have conspired to make me lose a sackload of weight in about six weeks, and if you don't mind I'm going to be jolly pleased about it. Less pleasing is the fact that said dress is now hanging off me, and the fitting's going to cost a fortune. However, I shan't be smug for that long. Two and a half weeks in Australia drinking beer and eating Aussie pies at the cricket, and then a week in Thailand smugging it up on honeymoon will take its toll, I'm sure. By the time we get to the celebration party back in Essex (spiritual home of the Fiance) I imagine I will have regressed back to the days of looking like Britney Spears in pro K-Fed and Cheetos times; and everyone will think the wedding photos have been airbrushed. Hee.

4. I'm so lame

Today I placed my first Amazon order ever. How behind the times am I? To be honest, there is nothing more pleasing to me than spending three hours on a Saturday afternoon sniffing around Waterstones or Borders, picking up various books, putting them down again, picking up some that you will never read, seeing sense and leaving with only a copy of Q and a set of 24 Top Trumps. However, current busyness means I don't really have time for such capery at the moment, so I decided to "get with the program", as my old head of department used to say, and buy my books online. Mmm, expenditure.

5. "Dear DHL. I hate you."

So, my wedding shoes arrived. Yay! Or, more accurately, not. They were delivered to my flat on Thursday afternoon, when strangely enough I was at work. This is all well and good, though, because I can get them delivered to said work. Oh, no, sorry. I cannot, because DHL is based near sodding Edmonton and I have to go and pick them up myself. Bah! I did this today, and it was a pain in the arse. Not only because I had to blag off work an hour early (my manager was lovely about it, and so props to her) but because this bloody depot was a great big long, depressing walk from the local train station and it was raining and the map was completely useless and I didn't have a bag to put the enormous shoe box in and the whole place was awash in scary looking men who I didn't want to ask for directions in case they tried to mug me and...gah. Hateful. Combine this with a jolly bus strike and it makes for a damn cross Miss Hacksaw with crap hair requesting an actual hacksaw, Jack Bauer style, just to end it all.

Am I wrong to still be finding William Fichtner the hottest actor in Prison Break?

6. "Darling, I need to look fabulous."

Aside from the relative doom and gloom of above, I get to go shopping on Thursday. Hooray! Basically, Ma and Pa Hacksaw are hosting a pre-Xmas piss up at the beginning of December; as they're going to be in Sydney for actual Christmas and so they have to get all that boozing and inappropriate flirting with the neighbours out of the way early doors.

Most of these friends and neighbours last saw me properly when I was at university and looked not unlike the Pilsbury Dough Boy. Hah. So, in order to take full advantage of the current lack of lard marring one's waistline, I've decided to go balls-out shopping and buy a completely new outfit that will make me look halfway decent. How very vain of me! Mind you, as a thank you to K for coming along with me and heaving me into corsets and whatnot I am taking her to Ping Pong afterwards, where I always have a tendency to overdo things; so chances are I'll be busting out of my outfit like Tom Kitten anyway by the time the do comes around. Marvellous!

Told you: Boring Entry Of Champions. Once again, I heartily apologise. I'll be back with some more normal posts at the weekend hopefully.

Ooh, one more thing. I've got rather into baking lately, and have decided to dedicate every Thursday night to baking treats for my office to have on the Friday. I've decided to throw the question of what to bake this Thursday out to you lot. Any ideas?