Sunday, 23 January 2011


Tonight Handball, sweden-croatia, at Saras is on the agenda.
I will get an opportunity to spend the night bragging about my 2 month(-ish, might have been 2 days. Time does not matter when it comes to celebrities) long puppy love with this man when we were 10 (yeah, like he doesnt remember) AND she promised to feed me.
I mean, sunday night made in heaven.

But first, drag my messy ass down to Morrissons. Buy anything that doesnt need to be cooked. 
Since I moved to London I havent been required to own my own pots,pans or plates. 
Until now. 
So, what did I bring with me in the move?
One press-o coffee maker (convinced roomie no.1 that I needed it more than her and let me have full custody of it)
One spoon (that I totally stole from my last house)
One meassuring cup(which I totally stole from my first house. Why I decided to steal a meassuring cup I do not remember.) 
One mug I got for my birthday.

But dont let me fool you, its not like I used the pots and pans much before either.
Fatty shit that only requires a oven(pizza, chicken nuggets, pasties....the choices are endless), yoghurt and cereal is pretty much what kept me alive in London so far. 
Not owning pans is the perfect excuse to continue all my bad habits.
Nutrition is SO overrated.

In 5 minutes (20...Hank Moody has me hooked at the moment) I will start getting ready. Not that I doesnt love the Diana Ross look I have going on right now, but people tend to take me more seriously when I brush my hair before entering the world.
Why I dont know. 

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