So, Bill Bailey was hilarious as expected, although we left JUST before the end as we didn't fancy battling umpteen thousand people for space on the Tube platform. The Underground is bad enough at the best of times - early yesterday evening for example. At King's Cross I was so squashed trying to get out that I ended up having to move sideways like a crab, which made me feel unbelievably idiotic and a bit like a crustacean. A crustacean in a crushed station. Brilliant!

Anyway, we got back to Tori's and somehow managed to stay up until 3.00 am. Today Tori and Pete (the live-in boyfriend, or fiance I should say as they're getting married in August, YAY) gave me a lift back and they ended up coming to the Christmas fair-mabob-thing with me. It was slightly disappointing, although one second we were all looking at some tat and the next I turned around and Tori was clutching a bottle of wine in one hand and a pedometer in the other, which she'd won from a tombola. We had tea and a little cake after that and thus ended our outing.

Also this morning Tori and I were lounging about in her living room watching the Absolute 40 Christmas Songs or something of that nature. Do you know what was at number 8? Fucking Destiny's Child. Ahead of Band Aid, Wham! and even Cliff. As I exclaimed to Tori, 'What kind of FUCKWIT put this list together? I am incensed with rage!'

I liked her reply of 'The same FUCKWIT who thinks "The Power of Love" [number 11 I think] is a Christmas song.' and then suddenly the programme ended without showing the top 5. Ridiculous.

I now bid thee adieu as I need to blow-dry my hair. With my hair-dryer that glows bright orange inside. I can probably afford to buy a new one now as today I received a cheque in the post from Her Majesty's Revenue and Customs, giving me back �183.01 of my own money which they robbed me of in the early months of this year, via the medium of emergency tax.

I'm a happy soul today.

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