Drivel & Nonsense (as usual)

So there was no shacking and I had a HUGE sulk. I know it's not Skaed's fault he got called into work that night (and I would have gone to work had I been called in) but at 8.15am my uncle calls, all good to go shacking. At 8.20am the phone rings again (no one rings me at that hour, seriously, if I'm not at work I'm not out of bed nor likely to answer people), and it's his work.

Anyways after 24 hours of being a complete laa-laa extreme I got over it and turned total dag (so unusual) and dragged the boy for a spot of:

• bug the draftsmen guy and ask him how much to draw up the house so I can get things into motion therein starting my heart attack
• saunter through Clive Peeeeeeters eyeing off sexy stoves, rangehoods, dishwashers and other assorted things
• Hit the 10 pin lanes for some average-ish cahoots and hysterical laughter over the air-hockey table (air-hockey including childish tears of laughter, flying pucks, my bra somehow doing stunts.. damn thing decided it wasn't built for such sporting pursuits and it would rather just sneakily flip one cup under my boob... thank god it was freezing and i was wearing two tops)

FINALLY dragged my ass back to Jim (other people call it Gym.. If I'm going to get hot and sweaty I can at least masculinise the concept)... Now I hurt.

On a side note Sexbomb should by now have achieved her Silver (I think) medals for dancing but the COW hasn't text me yet. Hope that mean's she off celebrating with Shagzzy. Fingers crossed.