Monday, September 19, 2005

I have survived three months of marriage – hurray. And I can confirm that frequency of “sexual relations” has remained approximately the same as the three months preceding the marriage. It’s good to know it hasn’t killed our sex life. It is only now that I have a week off work that I can be bothered to write anything. I was going to say “a week off work with nothing to do” but that’s not true. We are moving house next month, so I really should spend the week frantically looking for packing boxes, bubble wrap and parcel tape. But it would be hard to do that late on a Monday night. My husband (gulp) is sat in front of freeview laughing at Dara O’Brien suspiciously like I remember my Dad used to (fuck – I’ve married my Dad) so I’m going to write.

I particularly want to pose the question – why the hell do the BBC read out text messages and emails from complete morons during their breakfast news programme? A couple of weeks ago I went away on a residential training course (hehe, a chance to get my own back, since I normally train for a living). The other participants were all fuckwits (more on that later) so I watched a lot of TV. My god, I was astounded at the shite showing, and I only had channels 1-5. Back to BBC breakfast. I was when the most anticipated event of the year finally happened – petrol went above £1 per litre at loads of petrol stations. The “news” was that the average cost of petrol in the UK was 92p per litre. So one particularly bright person texted in to say “92p a litre, that’s rubbish. It’s 96p where I go”. Yes you twit – that’s why it’s called an AVERAGE.

As if this fresh hell wasn’t bad enough before breakfast, in the evening, I had to watch a woman with 6 dogs feed them all ice cream and sweet tea, then lock them in cages and never take them for walks. And instead of being fined/ASBOed/stink bombed by PETA, she was rewarded with a TV show being made about her. And the presenter was just weird. A skinnier, posher, doggier version of Super Nanny, she described one of the dogs as being like “the older sister who never got married”. What the fuck?

I will leave with two final comments:

1) Yesterday, my mother-in-law described herself as being my “mother-in-love”. I am absolutely terrified.

2) Marmite biscuits – I think I could actually live on a diet consisting solely of these.

Mmmmm – maybe I could make marmite bread – i.e bread where marmite is mixed through the dough obviously, rather than bread with marmite spread on it, because that’s called a marmite sandwich. If anyone knows of a recipe, let me know!