Actually, that's a lie. I'm feeling quite unwell. I hoofed down two packets of salt and vinegar Discos this morning on the way to work. My mouth is still stinging a little, what do they sprinkle those things with, spikes? But by God, were they good. I want more. And more. And more.
Then I cleaned the whole kitchen wearing my sunglasses, as didn't have time to put make-up on this morning, and couldn't be bothered when I got here, but hate how empty my face looks without it. Hence the shades. Hence scrubbing at patches of dirt on the floor to find out they are actually part of the lino. Ah, the trappings of being a shallow female with an addiction to kohl.
Anyway, to conclude this rather sorry post, here are some photos:
Exhibit one, my youngest sister Sophie No-Phone, doing her impression of Reagan from The Exorcist
Exhibit two, our daschund behaving in a frankly paedophilic manner around Slag Cat's newborn:
Exhibit three, my other sister Cath doing an impression of the Eiffel Tower. A serious contender for the Turner prize methinks:
