Monday, Monday, so good to me: Oxford Street.

The Ukrainians gave me free coffee this morning. Ah yes, my mother always said I had an innate talent for befriending randoms. I'm writing this quickly before I go to Oxford Street to shop to my heart's content. The Harrods SALE started on Saturday. Plus I walked passed Selfridges yesterday and I heard it call to me. Pity they took that David Beckham underwear board down though. So after the insane Michael Jackson tribute on Trafalgar Square (which I naturally joined in) where we danced for hours to all of his hits while fans did the moonwalk and lit candles, I was pretty much finished. Nevertheless I still managed to pack more yummy jam into my weekend.

Some of its highlight included, an authentic Indian lunch, a relaxing afternoon spent in Hyde Park, with what I’m almost positive was Hootie and the Blowfish in the background, some dodgy English pubs for a pint or two, a tour of Westminster Abbey by someone called Vulcan and a few Gin and Tonics (actually much more than a few) in Regents Park. That day was ongelooflik. It was so beautiful and sunny and then all of a sudden the heavens opened up and started to piss on us. I’ve never seen an area clear faster.

I have to admit, I am dying for a bit of good live music though and while tentatively dealing with this craving I almost blew every cent/pence/pound I had on the AC/DC concert at the O2 Arena, but then again if I had, I would’ve been broke for the next 3 weeks. Life is life hey? The Killers is one show I have promised myself I will not miss. Forsaking all others. God I sound like a marriage ceremony.

And finally, before my time runs out, I have a confession to make. I am COMPLETELY obsessed with Big Brother UK. Oh. My. God. The people who are in the house are complete nutjobs and range from some blond chick called Dogface who has size GG boobs, to an Indian named Shree who’s favourite saying is “You shut your face!!” to my personal favourite named Halfwit who is an Oxford graduate and who believes that being drunk is all a state of mind and that if you clapped your hands, it would probably have the same effect as drinking a bottle of Jack. I am in love with this man. If I run out of things to do I might go stalk the BB house.

Halfwit and Dogface (both of whom legally changed thier names when they entered the house)

Laterz. I’m off to smoke a fag. In the nicest way possible…