strawberrri.diaryland.com
They drink their beer and swear they're faithful to the king
2004-08-08 | 8:04 p.m.

I am never reading the Mail on Sunday again. Why ANYONE would want to read about Sven Goran Erikkson being woken up with a blowjob is beyond me. That made me feel sick. Very.

I spent today at my dad's. The car journey itself took twice the normal time as my town has turned into Alcatraz for the day - no entrance and no exit. Due to the Red Bull Soap Box Derby happening in nearby Knebworth. A crowd of 100,000 watching people race around in vehicles they built themselves. Which, according to my brother, is a bigger audience than the British Grand Prix.

So today I had a barbecue and played boules on the village green and wiped up my baby brother's dribble when he sat on my lap. He's grown. And he has less hair than when he was born, which I find amusing. I'm hoping he's going to grow a mohican in the next few weeks.

I got back this evening and have started telling people about the boyfriend situation (well, Tori and Natalie). I didn't even want to tell them because I DON'T want sympathy or advice from anyone, but Tori was so nice. I feel guilty because I was planning on telling her to fuck off if she laid on the sympathy. Instead I cried down the phone and she was really nice about it. I don't know what's happening with my relationship. He doesn't know if he loves me so it's kind of up in the air at the moment.

Oh and on Saturday Tori, Natalie and myself are hosting a barbecue of our very own at our new house in Leicester. It only got organised today but I'm already looking forward to it immensely. Despite the fact we'll have no water. Or electricity. It'll still be great though.



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