Shleeeepy Hamster

I am such a sleepy hamster today - have been for weeks. I can't be doing with working full time and the change in seasons. It's getting dark at 4 o'clock! It's not right I tells ya - not natural!

If I could have my way I'd go to bed at 2am and get up around 11am every day. And it wouldn't get dark until after 9pm, like the height of summer. And the weather would be like Southern California every day - reliable and wonderful.

People will less-than-perfect weather should be allowed to hibernate through the winter...

The worst look-a-like ever?

Is this for real? Worst still, it's the beeb taking up valuable space with the ravings of lunatics. Oooh, I'm quite a large beardy used-to-be long-haired man - I look just like Meatloaf. Rock on!

Back like a side of bacon baby

So, just a seven month break between blog entries... quite good going for me. I'm dreadful at commitment to any kind of activity, but writing diaries is the hardest thing for me. I aspire to it and think its admirable in anyone whatever they might be writing about - from the Samuel Peeps and Salam Paxs of the world right down to the rather disturbing Ex-Boyfriend Project... well, maybe not that one...

I feel the need to entertain inform and educate, and my friends and people I hassle on the street would say that I can do all those things, on a good day. I love blogs that can do all those things - excllent examples being Dibbie.com and Nice But Wrong. But most of the time I don't want to reflect on my daily thoughts and feelings. My internal landscape isn't a place I care to visit much. It's grey and dreary with the occasional random volcanic erutption... sort of like a cross between ancient Pompei and 'modern' Hull (the latter being quite a stretch of the imagination by itself).

So lets keep this lighthearted at least until I'm in a real stonk, or indeed a wotabarr (n. A mood or display of sullen aloofness or withdrawal: stayed home in a wotabarr; a case of the wotabarrs; Frank is in a wotabarr again). To this end, I learnt last week that mice can sing and that Freddie the hamster is being pimped out by a pet shop in Swansea. It's all good furry fun.