Let's begin with the Stereophonics and work our way outwards to the seven deadly sins... Or rather the 'Seven deadly Zins'. As you do, as you do.
I could also be absolutely honest here, and admit that I will most likely forget my path as I begun, and just end with a ramble that has nothing to do with the beginning...
Now, what I would like to cover today is that last bottle of wine. You know the one. The one just after 'I think I'm drunk enough, but fuck it, let's have one more'. Yes, you might have guessed it...I'm there just now. I'll probably regret this blog in the morning... at least that's what I'll tell my mum (sod you, I live in the UK).
I'm grooving, and I'm singing.. I'm happy, and I'm laughing. I'm struggling with a bit of 'Southern Baptist Guilt' as I cover it, but I think I'm coping well. What I want to know is.. when does one shut up? I mean, seriously... I have a world of questions, ready to be pelted.. .right on the tip of my tongue. The fact I can write this post with the words all spelled right means that I might be in a dangerous place.... "Do you love me? Do I love you? Do you agree that bacon sandwiches are something next to religion when it comes to magnificence? And really... if he loves me, if I love him.. it's really the bacon that speaks the loudest here. Gawd, they are lovely. Or rather, it's lovely... oh sod it.
I shall end this rather pointless rant that, I'm sure, you'll find was filled wisdom... with "There's more life in a tramps vest" or some such. But then you would think "She's sloshed and listening to the 'Sterophonics' again....
And you would be right.
Fair enough. Gonna go see if I can make some mischief now, or at least (the very least) finish off that last bottle of wine.
Love you all (not really. I'm sloshed. I love most of you.. but that's a lie too. I think I love some of you.. but mostly when sober. Sod that. I love like four of you. Yeah, that's it.. like four.)
From the soap box..
C'est moi (tis I!!!)
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