Samantha’s eyes are so beautiful I get lost in them.

Whilst lost in this dream-like state I’m prone to agree to all sorts of suggestions and ideas.

I blabbed all about this to Marie. This was an error on my part. She went and told Bonnie.

Bonnie went mad and won’t speak to me, which has its good points.

Like a cunt, I told Samantha who, then, sent an email to Bonnie saying all sorts of shit. I managed to get to that before Bonnie and deleted it. But, she sent a copy, or something very similar, to Marie who then, in turn, sent it to Bonnie – I didn’t get to that one in time.

My suggestion that we buy a huge bed and all live together in love and harmony has only one supporter: me.

“You’re not having a harem”. – Who says? I can have a harem if I want a harem. I’ll have two. What’s a harem?

The cheeky tarts all met up in a pub locally where I’m banned from. Sneaky. Luckily, Portia joined in their hate Sywwow fest and gleaned a load of info which she then told me.

They’re not going to catch me. I’m too artful for that.

I’m off to Jackie’s.

In my experience, which is vast & all encompassing, silly tarts forget after a short while what they’re even angry about because they get distracted thinking about handbags, shoes, that sort of thing.

Their brains are too little to cope with loads of stuff.

Plus, when I return, I’ll have some bullshit story of such brilliance they will all love me again. I haven’t thought of the story yet but it will be wonderful. I shall include a kitten – that always goes down well.