Hello stud muffins.
My Mum is snoring. The cats are snoring. In fact, everyone in the flat is snoring except me. (Yes I know, as usual, right?) Someone introduced me to the Sleep Cycle app for iPhone. TADAAAA. Its brilliant. It wakes you up in the morning and proudly showcases the statistics of your sleep the night before and when you were awake/asleep judging upon how much the phone senses you move in the night. (Oooh technical aahhhh scientific). Very clever and marvelous but I can’t help thinking its lacking the button which says ‘get Kimbo to sleep.’ I know however, that this crunchy peanut butter on toast and cup of Earl Grey tea will DEFINITELY help me sleep. Won’t it?! Harrods was very busy this weekend... And I hate Pet Kingdom. Meh. Its 2012 next year! FML. OLYMPICS! I remember watching the telly, seeing them announce it for 2012 and thinking... jeez, that’s ages away. I bet their shitting themselves now trying to get things ready on time. I have a vision of the triple jumpers leaping into a Toys R Us sand pit in a disused car park because things won’t be ready on time. ITS NEARLY CHRISTMAS! AAAAAAAAH! This scares me a lot because I feel about as prepared as a woman in labour. I fricking LOVE Christmas. I cannot believe how much my life has changed in the past year... SHIZEN. Its very scary indeed. I’ll miss St Paul’s in Chiswick this Christmas and not being a part of the Christmas concert and singing :[ I need to find a replacement for that in my life that isn’t in the form of booze or badness. I would really like a Christingle orange with cocktail sticks, a ribbon, candle and sweets please. MMMM. That reminds me of being small and LOVING the fact that Father Christmas would bring us presents in our sacks on Christmas Day :] I can’t wait to have children to make Christmas magical for them... its the small touches that make the fattest difference. I know a lot of parents believe their children should realise its them who buy the gifts... Well (ahem) WE were told that the presents were indeed from Auntie whoever or Cousin wotsit (as on the labels) but that Father Christmas delivered them on their behalf. A good Mum special (diplomatic compromise) there. There would always be a present from him too though. :] My Mum always made Christmas so wonderful for us every year and without fail we would leave out a mince pie, milk and a letter for Santa along with a carrot for Rudolf. There would ALWAYS be half a mince pie left, a bite out of the carrot, an empty glass of milk and a note from Santa the next morning saying thank you for the tasty treats :] I only realised years later that Santa’s writing looked distinctly similar to my Mums, apart from that it was gold and a lot more curly. My Mum would jingle bells at the bottom of the stairs too... ‘he’s downstairs...’ My Brother and I would huggle up together, frozen to our beds unable to sleep with excitement. Then in the morning we’d race downstairs, peek at the presents, run screaming upstairs into Mum’s room and yell in her ear that ‘HE’S BEEEEEEN!!!’ She would sleepily smile and put on her dressing gown, take us downstairs, make morning coffee and sit beaming as she watched us rip open our gifts before she even touched hers. I remember the first time I actually helped my Mum put out presents on Christmas Eve... even then she didn’t want me to help her as she believed it would take out the magic for me... I was 21. My wonderful, amazing Mum. I really hope I do as good a job as you. Back to the commercial world.... I really had better start thinking of Christmas gifts... I like the word umpteen. ‘I have told him umpteen times.’ One day, my age will be umpteen, won’t it? When I’m old and grey. Umpteen years from now... Drinking my umpteenth cup of tea with my umpteenth screw going loose upstairs. Ah. Umpteen. I’ve been looking at new flats this week... I don’t want to forget I’m moving soon and then be suddenly faced with having crap loads of stuff to do, with no time. Does anyone need someone to share with come May next year? If not, I’m riding solo. I really hope 2012 will be a good year. Someone once told me ‘2011 is going to be a great year, I can feel it.’ I feel like its passed me by with so much changing in between. It was a great year for them, I hope. I wonder if cats really do understand what I’m saying to them? My cats speak foodbowl fluently and when those biscuits hit the metal dish, they come racing from miles around... They are unable to understand ‘you’re in my seat’ however. I wrote a poem about being a cat, Here it is in all its wondrous glory: I’d like to be a cat You can’t get more ideal than that Sitting watching the world go by. I’d sit on a lap Eat shit loads of snap (Probably get fat) And never have to worry ‘Dear God, why?’ I’d sleep in the nice garden I’d sleep on the damp bathroom mat I’d eat some more (why not?) And then I’d sleep more than that. Sometimes with a mouse or a fish I’d play Sometimes with stuff I’m not supposed to Much to my owners dismay. More often than not I’d just sit still, close my eyes, just lay. I’d like to be a cat You can’t get more ideal than that. Oh the utterly wonderful peaceful and pleasant life Of a well groomed, fat and furry cat. So while you all think about cats and the fast-approaching and unavoidable Christmas, remember to be kind, helpful and smile for fucks sake. It might never happen. LOVE YOU.
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