Resentment

Pull me up,
by my socks,
She's flipping strong,
for a Goldilocks.

Now, because I'm so naturally charming and gifted I engender peace and love wherever I go. In fact I'm so likable I'm sure that even the people that already like me are hoping I'll stop this self aggrandising rubbish and get back to being British.

Difficult isn't it - especially when you're as good as me.

So what causes resentment? I think it's probably being rubbish - which is a shame because I've never ever ever experienced that feeling so can't possibly associate with you guys who have. Apart from that one time when I got goofed in the knackers by, oh wait, that happened more than once.

But who grades rubbish anyway - and maybe my goolies are just unusually talented at attracting shins - did you ever think of that Year 8 - did you!?!?

Isn't it all about perception - like parking? Oh and by the way, don't accidentally insinuate that your betrothed can't physically drive at all, because I've learnt that's not a good way to conduct a relationship.

I've been told before that you were happy for me to have a blog, because you thought it might be releasing pressure on my psyche, and giving me space to vent my mental - I don't think you'll be proud when we're all big and famous though - not without aggressive use of the DEL button, fo' sho'.

So just finish reading in a second, when you reach the end of what I'm typing and wonder how you're actually involved in all this, how you ended up there, with your eyes effectively on the other end of my fingers drumming rubbish straight into your brain.

It's probably a good thing - right?