What a beautiful day.

Some cunt in government has decided that we’re throwing away £10 billion, much of it still in it’s packaging, of perfectly edible food per year. There is a solution, the government cunt explained this morning on BBC’s Today. We, that’s you and I, can prevent this by ‘perhaps eating it before the sell by date and, therefore, not throwing it away…’ Well fuck my old boots, I’d not thought of that… this can be the most unbelievably insulting utterance by a minister to it’s minions ever? Really, who the fuck do these people think we are?

This comes on the back of a ‘Labour’ u-turn on dope. Spurning the advice of all its scientific advisers and just about every possible aspect of common sense, democracy and ethics Smith has taken it onto her fat old arse to go ahead anyway. Fuck you all.

Surely all this shit must be in response to last week’s by-election? Labour have concluded that the electorate don’t think they’re being fascist or dictatorial enough, like what the Tory’s is, so they’re happily shitting on all their liberal policies and talking down to us as if we’re snotty-nosed retards –Boris bans booze on the bus, Brown bans beer in bars, it’s the ‘they send one of yours to the hospital, you send one of theirs to the morgue’ simplistic mentality of Hollywood (that was from the Untouchables btw). And it’s fucking shit. The Labour party has officially died; expect ‘wogs taking our jobs’ next week…

Last night was jolly. I walked to the tube in the quite oddly warm sunny evening and met IC at Clapham Common where upon we took ourselves to a public house in order to drink in the balmy climes. Shortly after we went back to the flat where we had a few more drinks and I showed her some footage shot by Jamie a few years back of me vomiting violently into a sink.

The day of reckoning is upon me, the unspeakable events I’ve been alluding to over the past few weeks have arrived. To be honest, and this could well do with me having a hangover of sorts, I don’t feel too bad as I type this.

Actually I do. Short Piqued today. There will be one tomorrow (assuming I’ve not succumb to some sort of fatality) but it may not be until the afternoon. But it may be on time as usual. Who knows? Or cares for that matter…