It’s looking increasingly as though Carla Parr might move in, which would be utterly perfect. Go on Carlsy, you know you want to….it would be such fun.

If Carla doesn’t, then I don’t know who the fuck will, but they’ll have to be comfortable with the following eccentricities –

- Communal nakedness (Should be a girl really. Straight men would be a handful and that much female flesh on a daily basis would frighten any self respecting gay man.)

-Being jumped on in bed on a Sunday morning

-Overfriendliness of the young chavs on the estate – Sample conversation:

“Like penny for the guy like, innit yeah?”

“You haven’t got a guy”

“I’m the guy”

“That’s a shit effort, fuck off”

-Being woken up at 4am on a Wednesday morning because of forgotten keys.

-Communal bathroom activities.

-Occasionally - communal Darkness.

Go on Carlsy, go on go on. Book that van today sweetheart. We love you so much, and you won’t have to take your clothes off if you don’t want to.

Helen had a date last night with a man called House who claims that Ra is his God. Halfway through the night she sent me text, which just said “Fuck!” Not sure if this is good or bad. She was not home when I left for work this morning and I very much hope she got laid. House is quite fit and witty for someone who bases his belief system upon ancient Egyptian theology.

I have got my first work related private view this evening. I shall drink cheap wine, scrutinize very expensive pots and try not to knock anything over.

After that I am meeting the Ex (*sharp choking intake of breath*), who phoned me last night. We spoke for over an hour, as there was so much news to share after two month’s silence. I hadn’t realised how much I have missed the fucker. Perhaps there is hope of friendship. Hmmmm. We shall see. He is giving me some bike lights, which is useful.