Turns out the world wants to go at least a little bit summery today, though no idea if that’ll last beyond the next five minutes. Still a bit windy out, after all.
Anyway, what this means – as it’s Bournemouth – is beach time. YEAH. It’s easy to forget those miles of golden sand are there to be taken advantage of, mainly because I don’t like going outside and socialising with real people. But they are there, and today they will be advantage taken of’d. Mainly by sitting on them, then complaining I have sand all over me (it gets everywhere) then by getting wet shorts, or something.
But it’s not all good, as the beach – as soon as there is the slightest inkling of sunshine – suddenly gets infested with horrible, fat, bald, round, red-skinned things that wouldn’t look out of place in the factory rejects wing of a Madame Tussauds . Or maybe they would, I don’t know – I’m not a wax expert, hard as that may be to believe.
What is easier to believe is that I have little to talk about right now. I could go into the News Of The World/pres stuff in general, but that’s something for a day when I can be bothered to think harder than ‘not at all’. So not today, or most days for that matter. I did just watch Newsnight from last night and both Coogan and Self were brilliant.
Anyway, the other reason I can’t be bothered thinking of more interesting things to say is because I’m going to the beach now. BYE.