Ken Dodd's Dead Dad's Dogs Dead!

Bonjour, mon Revels cafe dans le sac de partage de la vie.
Excuse my French, I'm feeling continental. I'm not, I'm just trying to avoid reading Chuck (Charles) Dickins' 'Hard Times', which could quite easily be one of the shittest books ever written, beating even Anne Franks sorry excuse for thrills and chills, and the entire bottom shelf of 2 for £5 paperbacks in the local Asda. Now give me Ryu Murakami detailing an American man enveloping a mans ear into a vagina of a dead Japanese prostitute and I'll be interested in that slice of fiction. That scene is from a book called 'In The Miso Soup' by the way. It's like American Psycho, but set abroad and extremely interesting, if for that choice scene. Spoiler Alert above by the way.
Girls are on my mind today, not Megan Fox or Billie Piper or Jessica Alba or Gemma Arterton or Emma Watson or Cheryl Cole and even Rachel Riley who I haven't had a fix off for a good 2 weeks. Daniel Arnold will know what/who I mean. I'm pretty sure Daniel Arnold will not like being linked to this post but I don't give an unholy damn. Still have never asked a girl out, still never will knowingly and I still will act all nervous around girls I like. Only been two weeks here but there's a lovely girl here who I may try and pluck up the courage to go for. Whether or not this will pan out is totally dependant on how I feel in the morning, and if its like any of the mornings I've had recently, I don't stand a chance in hell.

I'd never read my sons diary. Any son that sits inside all day writing would have fuck all to write about.

Hopefully in my life I'd never have to have sex with a tree. Touch wood.

Jesus I've eaten too much Haribo. Anyway I went to see that Ryan Reynolds film, 'Buried' tonight. I can't actually name a film I've been scared of watching, but for some reason this film made me breathe really deeply when Reynolds character onscreen started running out of oxygen and I was just anxious and uncomfortable all the way through. It was extraordinary. I'm not the biggest fan of small spaces anyway being 16 stone of pure stupidity (and now it seems, Haribo Starmix), and as good as that film was, I could quite easily never watch it again in case it gave me the same weird feeling. In the words of Charles Dickens, from his tenth novel 'Hard Times',

"Dats some crazy motherfuckin' shit yo?!"

Love and the fried eggs in Haribo
Jc