My online friend, T, is coming to stay tomorrow. We are supposed to going to a seminar on death. I would rather die. Well, having bought a ticket and one for my mate Rolls too, I am not sure I want to go. It is all a bit yingyyangy for me. I will go to the opening knees up tomorrow and spend Saturday painting and playing and pretending to be at a seminar on death. After all I am immortal.
I have never actually met T so it will be interesting to meet her in the flesh after writing to each other every day for the past few months. Gosh, I do hope we get on. I know she is very large so I hope she can fit her ample arse into my small car. I mustn't make any comment as I don't want to upset her.
I am crap at Bokwa, my new dance class. But I will only get better with practice. It is so very confusing for my very small brain. I will persist until I get it sorted out.
I feel a bit rubbish at everything right now and have an awful stomach ache. I wonder if it's a stomach ulcer or perhaps it is the cheese on toast I had before going to Bokwa.
Mr Smith is going to stay with his mother in Yorkshire this weekend. I think the idea of two fat ladies has made him flee oop north.
It's my birthday next week. That's exciting.
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