Greeting greeting, mon petite mange tout

I am in London but for some inexplicable reason I feel the need to speak French. I don't quite know why because my French is sketchy at the best of times and the last time I bothered to say anything remotely interesting or funny in such a hideous language was when I was at school.

So yes, London. I have successfully found the smallest hotel room in the entire world and I am being charged a vastly inflated amount for it. Je ne sais pas porquoi mais c'est vrai. But, as I said yesterday, it is the beginning of the month and hence the planets are conspiring against me to make the next week as anti-MRO as possible. If there were any stray cats milling around the Victoria area of London I would happily kick them all. Twice.

Plus I am having a bad hair day. Up until last month my hair looked quite sexy. Now it just looks long and shabby and it's length accentuates the fact that it has started to thin and recede at the front. Still, it is appropriate for the present time and I do like running my fingers through the bit at the back. I find it most arousing and will miss it when I have it chopped off next week.

Grumble.

Oh, by the way. I was in Boots earlier and I saw an old man trying to shoplift some toothpaste. I saw him, he saw me see him, I grinned and looked away, he stuffed it in his coat and walked out. He must have been 75 if he was a day.

Also, I am in an internet cafe at Victoria station. The guy next to me is surfing the web for 'Escorts'. I tell ya, for three hundred pounds an hour they'd better do the ironing before they leave

Right, i'm offski to brave the big wide world and entertain myself for the next few hours. If I bump in to you then please don't mock my crap hair.

Later dudes!!