I feel like exploding

No, I am not having an angry day; but I am listening to the displays outside. Of course, we all know what tonight is about. It is the night you take children to displays and ignore certain government campaigns over safety. Well, you have to have sparklers. Although, is this day another sales pitch for occasion manufacturers to get rich. Some people have expressed views that it is odd that we celebrate a terrorist at these times. Well PC brigade again, meddling around, Christmas is already on the line. And I would like some really nice presents this year, not meaning to be greedy, but the blog favourites list was created for who ever decides to play Santa. 

I am not exactly sure, before I am mis-quoted, but I always thought that the aim of plot was to murder King James and his parliament. Not some random civilians in order to get attention, but then the lack of speed in sending messages around the country in comparison to today with the BBC and CNN, perhaps the effect would have been limited, and who would have cared about a few peasants any way? Well James survived of course and we can celebrate that, but it was also the biggest challenge to the feudal system that perhaps a group of people could have made. The beheading of Charles might never have taken place without a collection of brave events. So maybe we have a lot to thank the floppy-hat-wearing-plotters for.

But of course, this day goes hand in hand with the scenery. I was sent some great pictures today, with thanks to a football club mascot. I can just imagine being on the leaves now. Truthfully without giving you all ideas, it is really cold out there.

London escort, bambi legs.

Ooh, the after haze of a night out. Most that know me, will appreciate that sober dignity is rather becoming, not in the sense of being a control freak, but just in the case of being able to walk in a straight line. Luckily, I have not been too naughty; there were no surrounding officers that I needed to prove my sense of balance to. Shame!

Having elected to remain in London for the weekend, I met up with a friend and went out to a few bars in Covent Garden. As far as drinking is concerned, I used to be an all or nothing person. A few hilarious episodes when I was younger were certainly enough to make those immortal words “I am never drinking again” a promise I upheld for four years. But I think now I have mastered the idea of moderation.

Keeping some dignity is still the aim, which I believe I managed. However, I do have some recollection of talking to one random Australian guy. Australians, do seem to be everywhere! Yet, I do not think he deemed my conversation very engaging. Yes, safety is always a concern, and I know exactly how I got home, but it does always seem to be shrouded with mist, rather like the weather today.

The key is always in how you feel the next day. I have been lucky, no after results headache. But certainly I had no control over my legs, to compare; Bambi trying to roller skate on ice is equal to my level of control today. I even went back to bed after eating breakfast, at an incredibly early time. Any amount of alcohol seems to disturb the usual REM patterns. For some odd reason, I decided, I am going to the gym, and upon arriving there, even with the gentlest exercise, I regretted my choice, but that is dedication for keeping the legs fit for stockings. Which may have been in vain, because to regain any resemblance of control over my legs; I had to eat, and possibly have eaten far too much. I think it might take a few days to catch up with the beauty sleep, but until the next time, I hope to look beautiful and fresh faced.