Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

It is so unequivocally shite when something really really important goes really really wrong.

It doesn't happen very often but when it does, fuck me it's terrible.

This is getting embarrassing now.

I bought my one of my superiors tickets through my ebay account and for some reason her details have stuck on my profile. Now everything I buy gets delivered to her and she duly opens the parcel before passing it on to me. In the last two weeks this has happened with:

1 x large peacock made of sequins and bling

30 x peacock feathers

2 x sets of led dragonfly lights

1 x glowing cube light

8 x LED faux candles in frosted glass holders

And this afternoon’s treat was.....

288 x mini disco mirror balls

No prizes for spotting the burner in our office then.

Currently completely obsessed with Pogues lyrics.

From the sublime:

I saw the streams, the rolling hills
where his brown eyes were waiting
And I thought about a pair of brown eyes
That waited once for me….

To the fabulously ridiculous:

At the time I was working for a landlord
And he was the meanest bastard that you have ever seen
And to lose a single penny would grieve him awful sore
And he was a miserable bollocks and a bitch's bastard's whore

Shane McGowan tops my list of people I would most like to go on a three day bender with.

Is there such a thing as time off?

Yesterday my husband and I went out, bought the Sunday papers, a crap video, 2 bags of maltesers and five bags of 10p crisps and decided to spend the afternoon in bed chilling. I battled the urge to do the hoovering, clean the kitchen or bathrooms and took the afternoon off. A rare thing indeed. And very lovely it would have been too.

However, after a phone call from our neuro surgeon landlord, it became clear the afternoon off was never to be. He is coming round to look at the snug today and block up the hole which flooded it in the summer.

A minor panic ensued as the space was in no fit state for grown-up eyes, having been used as a dumping ground for many months. Turtle and I were forced to bring forward plans to clear out a mountain of junk, bedding, many cups and glasses, clip-on umbrellas, golf balls, rucksacks, tinsel, bikinis, magnets, hammers, lamps, broken vases, empty red wine bottles, wrapping paper, rotted clothes (from the flood – gross), gold balloons, hats, candles, army hats, fur coats, feather fans, used tea-bags etcetera, etcetera. The flotsam and jetsam of life in the House of Rats, thrown in there and the door firmly shut.

Not quite the relaxing day we had planned as I dropped a sofa on my leg and it was fucking hard graft for a hungover Sunday, but ah well, at least it’s done now and we once again have a habitable space down there. I have plans to decorate and make it as cosy as can be before decom, when it will be overrun by blinky people with wide smiles and filled with the sound of companiable mockery.

Well it’s a week later and I am sat in the same position (legs crossed, back straight, mouth eating), at the same desk, in the same Islington, thinking the same thoughts about UV white fur blinky dragon-fly black and gold mesh outfits for decom.

In an attempt not to appear both stagnant and single minded I shall catalogue what I have learnt this week.

• Bengali Tiger fire performances with dancing trees and fire pipes (just like home but smaller) knock the socks off the traditional Guy Fawkes display and all the Daily Mail readers can fuck off.
• Food is nice
• Amanda and pork make for a good evening
• Craft is the new cool
• The mornings are quite nice at the moment – fresh and crispy etc
• People who work at Gatwick airport lock midget co-workers in the overhead lockers on planes. Shocking! This was not in the news, I heard it from a person who has participated in this behaviour, what is wrong with the world?!
• My mum is going to India in January
• Leo’s new young man is nice
• 50s jive makes for an excellent night out. Jive is the new grinding in the rat family – this is because Hels has left
• Sleep is nice
• My husband is nice
• Roast dinners made by Carla Parr are nice
• Erm...life is...well, nice

So haven’t I got anything to rant about? Why is everything nice?

Oh yeah......Borat. Verdict: Anti-Semitism is rifer than one would think and is deemed acceptable if cloaked in humour and oh-so-fashionable irony.

It would seem, however, that the overwhelming consensus in chat rooms and reviews is as follows:

“Oh yeah but it’s like, ok yeah because it’s like, ironic so only stupid people won’t get it and like anyway he’s a Jew himself yeah, so he’s got like a political agenda and stuff.”

Really? Tell that to the 14 year old Muslim boy who hears a lot of anti Israel noise at home all the time and doesn’t need much in the way of influence for race hate. Like they’re going to bother with the irony. They’re not. They’re going to laugh at the base humour and repeat the phrases such as “crush the Jew egg” until they are comfortably reinforcing dangerous racist beliefs that really should be left where they belong. At Auschwitz.

But anyway, I bought some fab LED lights off ebay the other day.....and life is nice.

Have a good weekend all.

Dominating my thoughts this afternoon:

Blinky dragonfly shrug, white UV fur tie, peacock feather and sequin masks, gold & black mesh arm covers, black feathered hat, Victorian gent morning coat.......playalicious baby, East End style!!!!

Over and out. Off home to craft it up.

Staring up the arse end of the week.

Fabulous stuff. Hello weekend.

The Turtles are very very skint and have been housebound since Monday. Therefore, probably the most exciting thing that has happened this week is that the House of Rats has gained a milkman, something which I thought didn’t happen in London anymore. This, however, is not a complaint. I am enjoying my new frugal existence – nourishing and economical meals, regular exercise, considerably small amount of alcohol and in bed every night by ten. Unused to this worthwhile existence my body has started rebelling and waking me up at 4.30am.

It is a clear sign that I am not really cut out for this lifestyle and shall rectify the situation immediately by consuming my own body weight in cheap whisky over the next two days.

Hello weekend indeed.