Sunday, 22 April 2007

Its sunday! Lets go for a run!

Mental the London Marathon's on today and thousands of (frankly insane,) do-gooders are running 26 miles round London. I admire their fitness. I get tired after waking up let alone running. There's so many people (40,000 last year) that they have to scatter the starting points, but one thing's for sure: They all end up at THE MALL - the road that runs up to Buckingham Palace. That's right, boyfriend of mine, doubter of my knowledge of the city where I have lived all my life, the road running up to Buckingham Palace is called the MALL. Spelt, as I said earlier, M-A-L-L. Not, as you said, M-I-L-E. DO NOT DOUBT ME, FATTY WALRUS! Anyway, it appears the Marathon has kept it's old format, deciding to go against the grain and make everyone a winner. "How boring" groan the TV bosses - "You mean we can't offer the chance to vote off the slow ones via text message?"

Also, I just watched the most cringeworthy programme ever on T4 called Pussy Cat Dolls - Search for the Next Doll. These girls are so desperate to be famous it's just awful to watch; or probably not so bad if you're a straight bloke, but one of them had obviously been told at some point that she was 'too girl-next-door' and not 'sexy' enough. So everytime they interviewed her she'd witter on and on in some 18 year old squeaky American voice about how she's trying so hard to be sexy and hopes they'll find her sexy because shes really trying to make herself be sexy. Trying to be what? Sorry I didn't quite catch that? It's like oh dear God please stop promoting the idea that to get anywhere in the world, or to be sexy, you have to dress like a slag, parade around in your bra and pants and dance like a hooker. It's embarrassing because the girls are all 18-24 but they act like 14 year olds pole dancing at a disco, grinding away with not an ounce of class in sight. Bleurgh.

Also on my mind: My shoulder is still killing, trapped nerve according to (non-google) doctor. Ouch. My horse is still awaiting someone to loan / buy him. Argh. My bank will be running low on funds this month due to the purchase of 2 black tie ball tickets. The End of Year Ball. Really want to have a good night. To buy a new dress or to wear last years? Don't want a repear of last years ex-upset. I need to fix my car. What will happen after uni? Can I get more inspiration for 2 more essays? My room is a mess.

My mind is running its own marathon today.

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