Woke in a dull fug from last nights Twister marathon with the Nolan Sisters, and scratched around the bed. Why do those bitches insist on eating toast in here? I mean, really. Thaey are taking the piss.
Jeeves came in to say we now lay at anchor of the coast of Barbados and would I return the 14 phone calls from Miss Janet Jackson.
You think she'd get over it, but it's her own fault. She first approached me as a world famous choreograhper and regaled me in the most bo-o-o-ring proposal for her Super Bowl routine, and when she started on and on about how Timberlake was involved in kickbacks and a huge Mafia swindle, how I wish she hadnt taken me at my word when I said "Expose the tit on television". God, that woman is so literal.
Weather nice and sunny.