Hello Friday. Sometimes its nice to greet the day. Mostly we just say hello to each other or say ‘Good Day’ which is mostly treating the day like a dog. No need to patronising. Most people like Fridays. Often they thank God for them, which I think is a tad overzealous and not thought through as surely should such a deity exist then he, she, or it also created Mondays as well and that’s not acceptable at all. I mean, I say this from my point of view where all days blend into a mish mosh of timewasting, but I feel that as I have once spent time on the usual rigmarole of 9 until the 5, that I can sympathise with such appreciations of certain days. Normally I hate Fridays as its the day I have to perform to people who’ve been drinking since they’ve left work, and unleash all their mid week frustration on a small beardy dude trying to tell some funnies. Today however, my gig has been cancelled so it will be spent in a leisurely way, not unlike a Sunday, only with the added bonus of joining in on some other people’s Friday night drinking. I’m tempted to find some way to exact revenge on other people that are out. Perhaps I will heckle them from across the bar, or merely question their ability to do their job in a sarcastic way even though it appears they are fully capable of doing whatever it is that they do, and my line of interrogation is more to do with the fact I’m a drunk prick. I can totally do Fridays.

Hmm, that wasn’t where this blog was going today. Sorry Friday people. Especially our man Friday. And Girl Friday and that film with Ice Cube in it which I liked. Next Friday however, was wank. Poor Ice Cube. Once a pinnacle of West Coast gangsta rap, now melted somewhere due to global warming. I was going to go on and on about how proud I was to do some of my recent anti-cuts material to some rather rich Tory supporting people in West London last night and how it seemed to work. Or the fact that people are happy to protest over Wayne Fuckhead Rooney and yet not about the cuts – which I find just intolerable. Seriously, the career of a cheating troll is more important to you than the state of the UK? I won’t do that though as I’ve realised that some people read this blog from abroad and need some sort of respite from me explaining how shit everything is going here whilst hugely neglecting where they live in any way. Odd. Unless they live in France, in which case, high fives to all of you. Can’t believe the police over there are using tear gas on protesters? As if they are not sad enough already. One day I will stop being ignorant, learn French and hang out with all the other Douieb’s out there. It is a small ambition of mine, but sadly falls further down the ladder than pushing the T-detonator on a tower block building, parachuting into a party or taking a tiger for a walk in the park.

Its tangent o’clock here today isn’t it? I’l be honest this blog had no inspiration to begin with today. I thought about just giving you one of those ‘this is what I’m up to blogs’ but decided against it, then thought about typing up all the pros and cons of deciding I might start to become a believer in Norse gods, just cos you know, why not? They had cool stories, cool hats, really long boats and axes and swords. But then I realised that was my only basis for such actions. So not really a blog’s worth is it? And so ultimately we’re now three paragraphs in and I’ve done nothing but waste your eyes. And my ‘i’s. And other letters. Sigh. Sorry. Right. I might just give up for today. It is, after all, a Friday and surely that’s the point? Thank Odin for that.

As a last note, I’ve finished Simon Pegg’s book and its bloody superb. You should all read it. All of you. If you have any eyes left.