Again the ball of fire has risen in the skies above London

much has transpired over the weekend... hopefully all will settle. The rain and gloomy weather sure did add in it's fair share of pathetic fallacy... lighter notes include being on the 38 on the way home on saturday night after 5 too many martinis taking the role of the bus asshole and dodging anti-Canadian - south park - fueled insults by Keith and Hazel and a screeming queen who was more than delighted to take part...

Busy week ahead... meeting with hon tomorrow night and Therese on Thursday... gym in-between, oh yes and if I'm lucky I might just make it home sometime in between all of that.

Can I just say... do I look like a freaking prossie? I think not. I went across the road last night out into the big bad world outside my loft compound *scoff* and some freaking punter honks his horn at me and tries to follow along beside me... I mean come on now. I'm walking across the road to the shop... so I exit the shop and he's circled around the green and come back and honks again just on the off chance that I am indeed a hooker and I'm just playing hard to get... now I've seen some of the ladies who occasionally work the corners around my street and I can tell you for damn sure they look rough as hell. I really felt like going over to the guys car and asking him if he was having a laugh? Eww eww.