Margaret Cho - Gwen

Thanks to Bretty for introducing us to Ms Cho. Really funny stuff here. be warned, it's a bit dirty, but hilarious.
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All a twitter

It's early morning in old London town and I seem to be awake.

It's not because of the heavy meal I ate last night in celebration of the fella and I passing over into our 9th year together, nor is it about the bottle of Piper that we drank.

NO its because it's now summer, and with the lovely summer weather that comes along in London, comes along a rather annoying community of twittering birds that live outside our window.

I don't mind wildlife, no, I have been to many discos and felt like I was exploring the inner reaches of the Amazon basin, or even the outer rim of the rift valley, most likely the outer planets from Revenge of the Sith. But really, the thing is, in summer time here, it gets light now at about 3.30am. And there is only one place I like exploring at that hour.

So the birds tend to get up at about 3.00am and start hollering around the back garden like a bunch of chavs on holiday. I can just imagine their conversations now: (in bird)

"Oi Sharon, get us another beer would ja?"

"Get your own beer you lazy bastard. OI DARREN! GETCHA HEAD OUT OF THAT BIN."

Think of us, sleep deprived as we muddle through a summer of no air con and no cool drinks and 100 million tourists with those pesky bags on wheels.

Boot camp!

I'm not really sure if it's the barrel gut I seem to perpetually be struggling with, or the fact that I'm just bored with life right now, but I have thrown all caution to the wind, completely ignored both my knee injury and lower back pain and signed on to boot camp.

It started last week and funnily enough I felt quite OK afterwards. The next day I felt fantastic. Day 2 and I was a blithering mess with little to no feeling in my quads.

Why does it take that long for this sort of thing to kick in? I mean, usually after a big night at the disco, I'm feeling satisfactorily shattered the very next day. And lets not even talk about what happens to my body after a weekend craft-a thon. Sometimes it takes weeks for my nimble little fingers to regain feeling through those hearty calluses.

So tonight, I have just returned from my second session. I did think that the little twinge in my groin would disappear to nothing after a few sweaty lunges and a couple of star jumps around the park. But after 3 laps of serious lunging the pain became so intense that I was rolling around in the grass like Jude Law in a mob of nannies with severe groin strain.

Now I can't feel my nuts.

Ice pack, doctor Pete. I need healing....

Prison Break

Shush.

OK so I went to America recently yay.

I did not meet Paris pre prison. sorry, But I did spend a load of time mooching around Santa monica and Ioved it there. It reminded me of Sydney, which, is unfortunately, my home town. The bars and restaurants there are really lovely.

I havn't been postng much here lately because I have been living. Living the life in London that I have wanted to come here to live. I won't pretend to say that it has been easy. Quite the contrary. It has been the most difficult period of my life ever. But you know, you can wallow in the shit you dont like, or you can say, "I rock"

Time for me to reclaim the latter.

Finally I have found my place here.

Peter, I love you. I always will.