Emily

Yesterday was interesting. I needed to pick up some things for the house, so I loaded up on morphine and forced myself out of the door. Debs drove me round and Eve was my little helper in all the shops, and I managed to sort out almost everything I needed.

Then on the way home, someone rear-ended us at the traffic lights. We and they pulled over, but there was no significant damage to the car. Okay, panic over, let's go home! Quickly, because I forgot to bring my coat and I'm freezing, and Debs needs the loo.

We drove back to the house, loaded ourselves up with all our purchases and Debs' DS (which she'd taken to entertain herself with while Eve and I were in the shops), trailed up the path to our front door... and discovered it wouldn't open. The key wouldn't turn. For a couple of minutes we all passed things round between us to free up hands to try the key again, and again, and then we had to all jump back in the car to go to my mother's so Debs could use the loo and I wouldn't freeze to death.

On parking outside my mother's, we gathered up the valuables to take inside with us (because while you should never leave valuables visible inside a car, this is doubly so in some places), and that's when Debs discovered she couldn't find her DS. She realised it must be on our doorstep, so we all piled into my mother's as quickly as possible, so she could run to the loo and then dash straight back to the car and drive back for her DS, and to have another go at the door.

While she was out, we discovered Eve had been holding her DS the entire time. I couldn't even ring Debs and tell her, because she left her phone in the house yesterday. She was very relieved when she got back, but she still couldn't get into the house.

My step-father took the keys and went over to our place to fight with the door, but he couldn't do it either, so eventually we admitted defeat and called a locksmith. £70 later, we were back in the house and our little Carry On film was over. We ordered takeout, because no fucking way was Debs cooking after all that.

Today, I have to go to the cripple shop for some cripple accessories. Here's hoping I can get back into the house when I'm done.

Slut.

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Since I'm feeling a bit healthier, I've been getting stuck into the unpacking that didn't get done when we moved in here. We moved on the first of December, so we were more concerned at the time with just unpacking the essentials and getting the rest of the boxes and bags shoved into cupboards out of the way so they didn't interfere with Christmas, and after Christmas I wasn't up to the task of finishing the job properly. Now, armed with better health and a mother who wants to do EVERYTHING so I don't have to, I'm dragging out the boxes and wading in.

So there's this entire bin liner full of cuddly toys. It's as if my daughter is spoilt or something. Anyway, we emptied the bag out onto the kitchen floor, where a massive laundry operation is currently under way (seriously, I've got three hanging rails out there for extra drying space. I'm really enjoying having a bigger kitchen). This is fine and everything, except that her ladyship keeps standing on them. This is fine too, except that every time she stands on one of them, it plays Last Christmas, and now I really, really, really, REALLY want Christmas to arrive. I was doing fine until that fucking teddy started acting up!

I've gotten madam to start putting together Christmas lists. I'm going to get the cupboard under the stairs sorted out, so I have somewhere to hide away the presents I plan to start accumulating immediately. Argos have a small Christmas section on their website, and I was overcome with glee when I looked at the Betterware catalogue someone put through my door yesterday and discovered there was a bunch of Christmas stuff in it. I'm pretty sure if I suggested starting to do Christmas things now, Debs might actually kill me. How can I be expected to wait another two months before I'm allowed to do Christmassy things? IT'S NOT FAIR.

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Just popping in to say I know I owe people comments and emails and stuff, but it's the daughter's birthday tomorrow and I'm ever so slightly run off my feet. I'll get to everything as soon as I can, promise!

I'm fucking knackered. My feet don't seem to have touched the ground during the last few weeks. We took Eve to my cousin's daughter's birthday party, where she was one of eight little girls - Debs informed me at said event that she was perfectly happy to help prepare Eve's birthday party, but that once people start to arrive, she's going to her room and not coming out again until the little shrieking harpies have gone.

My uncle created a murder mystery for my cousin's sixteenth birthday. It was me. I shoved one guy off a train platform and stabbed another in the back. Apparently Eve thoroughly enjoyed helping to create that murder scene. Tip: if you're ever at a murder mystery with me, I'm a good bet. I've been the murderer every time so far. Maybe there's something in that. My mother looked absolutely ridiculous in her costume, it was brilliant.

I left a video encoding when I went to bed on Saturday night, and by the time I got up in the morning, I'd completely forgotten about it. I turned on my monitor and bam, Sabin's ass all over my screen. Best possible start to mother's day. And I've just remembered I have posh chocolates from my little girl, with which I am now going to stuff my face.

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While I was doing the school run this morning, there was a woman with a little girl, and the little girl was complaining that her legs were tired. The woman started to reply, "Well, if you'd stop running around like a spastic," but presumably remembered partway through that you're not supposed to say spastic, so to avoid offending anyone, she changed it to, "like a loony." I managed not to laugh, I don't think she would have appreciated it.

Also, there's a van parked down the road belonging to 'The Ayjay Group'. I don't know what they do, but I like to think they go around shouting, "Shut up, faggot!" at people who are trying to cut promos.

Hair. Apparent lack of excessively stupid chops. I like it. He'll probably change it before he comes back.

I'm finally starting to shake this flu, which is nice because I haven't had chance to really enjoy not having cancer yet. Okay, I'm still pissing blood, but I'm not actually dying, and I'd like to get out and make the most of that!

My brother just spent over £200 on a TV unit. He hasn't got a TV.

Hey Sabin, what's your favourite thing about Shelley?



Can someone explain to me how this guy is a wrestler instead of a whore? I mean, I know there's some degree of overlap, but come on.



I'm convinced that had it not been for the menopause, I would have gotten pregnant just looking at that picture. How sleazy does he look?

Also, apparently I killed Alex.

My daughter decided I was in bed too late today, so she did what any child would do - she dressed up as 'the Ghost of Jewels' and poked me with a stick.

There's something I have in common with Chris Sabin, but unfortunately, it isn't his dick. It's the fact that I still play with dolls too.

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