Introducing….

Hello my little web squiddlings. I am getting a new house mate. He is gorgeous, green eyed, with grey hair and loves to sleep curled up with me on my bed. He’s so warm and hairy…

He also says miaow. And poos in a tray full of some form of gravelly substance- I have no idea what it’s made of. stupid cat litter.

He’s not a cat though. Although he is. To the best of knowledge at least… He could be a changeling. Or a very small man in a very good fancy dress costume. That would be weird.

But yes, I’m getting a little kitteny pet. He is the runt of the litter, cross eyed, has a bent tail and can’t get his legs under him amazingly well- he tends to shuffle on his belly. I do love him so. I have named him Fëanor. Yes, I know what you’re thinking. It means spirit of fire in Noldorin Elvish. I’m not a nerd. I will try and get a picure of his quasi-erotic little phase on here so that you can start showering him in adulation and love. He will be my partner in crime and become the head of my unholy army of the night. Yes, he will do these things, and hopefuly make me tea in the morning.

I now have the luxury of a whole week off ahead of me in which I intend to drink and spend much time with my mate Chris who I haven’t seen for 4 years and is coming to visit. I’m going to be his best man when he gets married. He must be really struggling if I’m th best man he can find but hey, that’s life eh! At least I get to dress in a snappy he suit for a day. He want’s me to wear white top hat and tails. I’ll look lovely. Like a princess in fact. A croos-dressing princess, but a princess no less.

I’ve just realised that the general thrust of this entry (oo-er missus etc) is more than a little homosexual in it’s leanings. Hmm… perhaps I’m not telling me something. I hope not, as I’m rather fond of lady parts. Nevermind, at least I’m not George Bush.

And speaking of toffee, I’ve finally finished dying my hair into it’s lovely present shade of balck. I still hate it but in a slightly oblique way, such as the way one hates the fact they always walk into the chair sticking out too far from the dinner table but can never be arsed to move it. Not that I’m like that. No no no no. Well, a bit.

I’m bored of typing now. And as such I shall leave.

Adieu, adieu, remember me.

Whatever my name is…