This morning started off fine, at about 9:30, which is always a bit strange when the night before you’ve had four pints and probably the best part of a bottle of wine. I eventually persuaded Jamie that breakfast was required for two dogs and me. I ate breakfast and read the paper. The alarm kept going off and I kept on adding another ten minutes. It was Radio 2. Ike and Tina Turner came on with ‘River deep mountain high’. I grabbed hold of Jamie’s winky and started fapping away to the tune. I was getting into the groove. After a couple of minutes it got to the slow bit so I settled into a steady rhythm, then the beat picked up again and he suddenly blurted out, “Oh my god the fucking chorus”, I burst out laughing at that point and that was the end of it. I finished the paper and got up.

So today was all about painting, and lots of it. Sanded the coving and gave that another coat. Stained the wood round the patio door and then did the skirting. Picked up the dog poo and then had lunch. Gave the coving another sand and another coat. Decided the wood stain on the patio door looked shit so just painted that the same as the skirting. After eleven hours it’s all done bar the touching up with a fine brush. Then I need to caulk it all.

In the meantime mother had left two messages on my mobile. The first was moaning that the curtains hadn’t been sewn straight so she had to pin them all up again. Then that she had spent 45 minutes trying to close her curtains because part of the rail had come out. She would then apparently have to spend the next day in the dark as she couldn’t close them, and how was she supposed to do my curtains then, and could I pop round and sort it out. The next message was that she had managed to sort her curtain rail out, but she was still having issues with my curtains, blah blah blah. I didn’t call her back, I really don’t give a flying fuck about her curtain rail. I knew this would cause me grief, I wish now I’d just packed them up and sent them down to Alison to be done. At least then I wouldn’t have to donate a fucking kidney to have them taken up three inches. Everything is just such a fucking chore with her, she has no idea about how much stress it causes for me. I’m not in the greatest of mental states and she does fuck all to help it. I really should have moved country when I had the chance. Remind me Christmas time, there’s a great story about a present we got her, where she turned out to be the worlds most ungrateful bitch.

Finished off, then found Jamie in the bath which was rather inconvenient, so basically had to sit on his fat thighs. Mind you his massive stomach does make a good pillow.

And there we go. He’s now walking the dogs, hopefully then we may eat and its only 00:30.

Anyway folks, if you enjoy reading my whitterings, and want to follow more of my day to day rants about helicopters, Ubuntu, my bad sex life or how much I hate my mother you can follow me on Twitter using @mannmansion I’ll attempt to follow back as many as possible (if anyone follows me at all). Mind you on twitter this evening was Connor Maynard saying he was naked and covered in Nutella, which sounded quite interesting.