Sunday 26 July 2009

After last night’s ridiculously late session this morning I awaken just after 8.30AM thinking that I have managed something that constitutes a lie in. I’m a bloody fool.

I am still thinking of Big Brother this morning, I want more information now, and I need my fix. Did anyone else walk yesterday/last night/this morning or was Tom it? Am I beginning to now place a wrong amount of “importance” on this trip? Is it about time that I win/wrestle back my life?

This is a no no morning.

Eventually I get up and out of bed and have a crack at some writing but it is only to diminishing returns, not enough output in return for my efforts. There is something wrong at the moment, it would say it was a block except the words but they are just not very good or well constructed. At some point I appear to have far too self conscious about my writing and with it lost the ability to judge/gauge my grammar. This is ridiculous.

Around midday I get distracted when the first ever episode of Monk appears on BBC2. This show is very underrated, Tony Shalhoub regularly puts in a great comedic performance that deserves to be applauded with more fanfare than it gets. It’s been going for years now and his combination of Rain Man and Inspector Clouseau is a perfect way to doss. I believe parts of this episode were filmed in a part of San Francisco that we visited back in 2003.

With the day not really happening eventually I head back to back where I find myself watching three episodes of Entourage back-to-back. Realistically there should be more to my Sunday experience but this will have to suffice for now.

As per routine I head to the olds for 3PM and snag some Sunday lunch which is its usual combination of fun and tense. I’m getting too old for this shit now.

On Sky there is some shitty pre-season tournament held at Wembley in which Celtic play (and beat) Spurs. They should be ashamed.

The News Of The World is classic today as it reports that Jordan has shagged some cage fighter. The MMA world could not buy that kind of press coverage. For some reason though this is the kind of couple you can imagine working, tough as nails and without two brain cells to rub together between them. I can’t imagine she will able to rub him down to a nub in the manner that she cuckolded little Petey Andre.

While at the olds I watch the final episode of The Trap. This was not the best series of documentaries that Adam Curtis ever made.

In the evening we do the old Simpsons tradition before I head home for the Sunday evening blues.

Once back I begin writing for a while but tired I soon find myself opting for some more Entourage episodes.

My night ends with watching the latest Big Brother developments and those vacuous souls taking up my TV screen.