Thursday the 28th of April 2011.

I woke up at about 11.30 today. I was woken up by Jason Yates calling me. He asked me what I was doing today, saying he was in Manchester. I told him I was going to the Raw Strength facility later, so would not be able to meet him. He said he would see me tomorrow for Goodison’s all day of drinking which he’s organised.

We have kept our flat very clean for the last couple of weeks. When I entered the kitchen this morning however, I noticed that Ant’s fajita wrap meal he had last night had caused a thunderstorm of washing up. I’m usually against doing other people’s washing up, but I want the flat to stay clean so I did it all.

This afternoon was quite a slow one. I don’t even know what I did apart from the odd Facebook chat to people skiving from work. I must be such a good person to have on Facebook if you’re bored at work. I’m always around for a chat. Hodge was saying the other day that I should let lonely people hire me out for a night out. It would almost be prostitution, but I’d definitely do it as long as I didn’t get anally penetrated. You will see why I don’t want to get anally penetrated if you continue reading this blog.

Roughley put up some photos from when I was sat in the kitchen on Friday night saying “I don’t want to go to bed because I don’t think I’ll wake up.” Here is one of them. I’m wearing a plate as a hat, I don’t remember this.

Ant went to the gym at about 4pm, and me and Hodge followed him about an hour later. Once we arrived there, Ant was still training 2 of his clients, so me and Hodge went over to Sainsbury’s for after workout drink and food. On the way back from Sainsbury’s, a child was in the street singing. We listened to what he was singing and he was going,

“…..there were nine German bombers in the sky, there were nine German bombers, nine German bombers, nine German bombers in the sky……..”

Christ.

Ant is doing some mental strong man competition soon, where he has to flip a tyre twice as big as the biggest one in the world which he has at the gym. We were piling smaller tyres on top of the biggest one in the world, to see if he could flip them, but he couldn’t. Eventually we started our workout and Ant taught me how to bench press! I’m becoming such a grown up!

The workout was relatively easy for me as I wasn’t lifting too heavy weights, and some children from the local park came watching us, saying how heavy everything looked. Correct.

After our workout, me and Hodge bid Ant farewell as he’s off to Wales with Sara for the long weekend. Before leaving, I popped the bonnet of my car and we tried to investigate the fart smell which is coming from my engine. We were none the wiser though. Also before leaving, I noticed that on my phone the messages icon has a :-( image on it. I presumed this was because it had no texts. I told Hodge as he has the same phone, and he showed me that his had a :-) image, but he also had no new texts either. So apparently I have a depressed mobile phone. Its probably because it has amazing things like Xbox Live on it, but I didn't realise I could play the games until last night, as I THOUGHT YOU HAD TO HAVE AN XBOX. I don't know why I thought this, in what way would owning an Xbox allow you to play games on your phone? I really should just have a phone which allows me to ring and text. This whole multimedia world is wasted on me.

Me and Hodge drove home, and on the way back we saw a lovely site. The sun was shining on Beetham Tower and made it almost look like it was on fire. On fire but in a nice way. If I was a photographic prick with a pretentious camera then I'd have definitely got a photo of it, made it look vintage and posted it on here making it sound more important than it was.

When I got in Louise rang me. I said her and Hulme should come and drink with me whilst watching the Royal Wedding tomorrow, as everyone else is going out early so otherwise I’ll be sat in on my own like an alcoholic billy no mates. The reason I’m not going out early is because I sexually assaulted my bank balance last weekend with my drunken idiocy.

After having my tea (which contained 5 sausages), me and Hodge watched 10 o’clock Live. We had to have the TV volume on about 55 because the washing machine is so fucking loud and attention seeking. Just as it sounded like it would stop, I’d turn the volume down and it would go “OH NO MATE, ONE MORE WASH YET LOL.” Twat of an appliance.

Hodge went to bed as he has to get up at 6.30am tomorrow, and I continued to watch it whilst eating some Smarties cookies. All of a sudden I felt a DHL van in my stomach, carrying a shipment of poo and delivering it straight to my arsehole. I dashed to the toilet and endured what can only be described as pure hell.

I’m really sorry for the next graphic paragraph, but it happened, and I want to tell you about it.

There was runny poo flying out of my arse and causing all sorts of havoc. I know people say it all the time, but my bum was actually on fire. I used so much toilet roll in Round 1 that I had to actually flush the toilet whilst still sat on it. Round 2 wasn’t much better, and I found myself leaning against the wall for support, then having to take off my boxer shorts and just sit their semi naked as my whole crotch area was so hot. I felt hungover it was so bad. This was why earlier I said I never want to get anally penetrated by the way. Jesus Christ, I don’t know how the gays put up with such punishment. I had to flush the toilet about five bastard times to get rid of everything. It was sheer torture.

If you need me tomorrow I will be drunk.