I'm using the bank holiday as an excuse for the lack of action on the blog this week. I currently lack Internet access at home, as one of my flatmates has managed to break my laptop charger as a result of a emotionally charged 24 hour pornography binge (apparently he 'fell in love' with BellaDonna). Soon after my charger got bruck, my other housemate fucked off to Morocco so he could gad about in a Fez. He has deemed it appropriate to password-lock his laptop while he is out of the country. Such drastic actions were probably taken in order to prevent a repeat of the 'porn overload' incident that Jon perpetrated on my laptop.
While I did have Internet access at work yesterday, I was so tired I could barely stop myself from passing out at my desk, let alone muster the energy to provide any hilarious musings for the blog. I'm still feeling a bit rinsed so I have decided to keep the hilarity to a minimum in this post.
To tide you over, above is a picture of the motor we will be renting for Jon's birthday this weekend. I am sure you will agree that it will serve as quite the babe magnet. We emailed Cadburys to see if they wanted to assist us in implementing a boisterous publicity stunt that would complement the weekend's celebrations. Jon wanted to procure a sack of cream eggs and hollow out their creamy centre. In place of the sugar rich yolk, we would fill the eggs with contraceptive pills. The publicity stunt would consist of us driving through the streets of Deptford in our eggmobile, lobbing our estrogen laden treats at unsuspecting 'hot chicks' and/or destitute alcoholics. BANG! See you on page 3 of Monday's Metro.
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