Four day weekends
It’s Wednesday morning and the start of the first working day of the week. I can’t believe that the four-day jubilee weekend has gone already, and although I can’t say I’m overly surprised that I did very little over the weekend (as is my wont), it really did seem to pass by rapidly.
I managed to avoid the majority of the celebrations. The whole “whoop-de-do” thing really isn’t for me. If you’re a monarchist, if you just love the queen or if you’re proud of being British then that’s fine, but the millions of people celebrating and watching the flotilla work its way up the Thames are probably the same millions that bitch and moan about royalty.
Talking of flotillas, I don’t recall having heard that word before the weekend, but I think it would be better used to describe the faeces of Godzilla rather than a large group of boats.
Still, the queen enjoyed it. At least that’s what we were told. Every time I saw a picture of her, she had a face like a smacked arse.
Mind you, I’d be the same if I had to stand for several hours waving to people I didn’t know and smiling. She wouldn’t have looked out of place in an Alzheimer’s home to be honest. “I’m 85 you know. I’m the Queen.” etc. “Of course you are dear!” would come the kindly reply from the overworked nurse, “Queen Elizabeth II, you’ve told me before!”
But that’s enough of that. As I write this Sky Sports News is blaring in the background and I am keeping an eye on the clock, constantly changing the time in my head when I am going to step away from the computer and begin the journey across town.
The adverts on these channels are amazing, with one of them aimed at balding men who are looking to regain their hairline (I can take the piss but let’s be honest they’ve found their target market with me).
Is any man really that concerned about their hairline? To me, I hate the fact that I’m balding. I started off with a massive forehead anyway, so I was always fighting an uphill battle there, but I tend to think that it is what it is. I’m not going to throw money after it trying to get a fuller head of hair. It’s like penis size. What you’ve got is what you’ve got, don’t stress over it as you can’t really change it.
Spoken like a man who is hung like a donkey, huh?