Its hard trying to pretend you're not hungover. I'm at work and my boss is here from Holland. My mantra is "I am spritely. I am spritely." But I'm not. My head hurts, I'm floppy. So far he doesn't appear to suspect. I'm hoping I didn't sweat too much on the way to work in case wine seeps from my pores and then the jig will be up.

On the way home from the gig I went to see last night I bumped into a stand-up comic I knew also on the way home from a gig he'd just performed at. He was completely sober, and I was quite drunk. BAH.

The thing is, our eyes met just at the crucial moment that I was ramming a whoppa burger with cheese into my salivating gob. I whipped it from my mouth and stuffed it back in the bag but it was too late, he'd seen me at my weakest and there was nothing I could do to erase that image.

I think I rambled on about crap for ages, even forfeiting getting off at Bank to continue my monologue. 'He smiled sweetly and said don't worry.' (he didn't do that, its a line from a song) but yeah I'm a silly, and I just get excited.

I've just discovered a complaints form in my handbag which I requested at Euston Burger King last night because (wait for it...) they didn't have any cheese burgers or normal burgers available for sale last night. WHAT A COCK. Haa haa.

Thats it for now.

BYE.

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