I really need to get dressed. Hold horses. Ah, I have returned, after searching for many hours (five minutes) for my new and lovely bra. You don't want to know that. But, I care not. You are choosing to read this, and if you don't like it, you can damn well find another thought whore. Anyway, whilst on my adventures, I was downstairs in my towel. Father dearest walks in, emits a little shriek and retreats from the room, shouting 'SORRY, YOU SHOULD HAVE WARNED ME!' Hello, Nigelman? I am wearing a TOWEL. Yes, my body is fully covered. There is no need for scary shrieking, for there is nothing bad to see. I am covered in a towel. Fool.
Hold on, I'm still not dressed. I think it is me who is the fool. One moment, please. Right. Back again. I was actually gone for an hour and a half, but you did not notice. So that is ok. I have broken many resolutions. And I eat a lot. I do not give a damn if I am fat. It doesn't bother me in the slightest. I am still size ten, so it's not as if I am Giant Woman 2004. Or 2005.
Hey there. I have returned. Well, once again, you won't have noticed that I went at all. But that's ok. You are excused. I have noticed that wherever I go, I assess the situation to find the most probable means of death. For instance, as I was stripping the Christmas tree today, and carrying a handful of baubles to the other side of the room, all I could imagine was me tripping over the fairy lights, falling forward and landing on said baubles, meaning they would shatter and glassy bits would fly everywhere, and pierce my eyes, and other parts of my body that do not want to be pierced. And then a piece of glass would fly down my throat, and I would choke to death on it. This little image entertained me for at least half an hour.
And Lois should be here soon. So. I shall see you guys later.
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