White Britain.

I don't like snow. Seeing it snowing on Sunday night was just so depressing but waking up on Monday morning knowing that it had all landed and was deep and crisp and even make my stomach put it's head in it's hands. It's a horrible feeling. Waking up and just knowing that there is deep snow outside waiting to trip you up, make you cold and wet and laugh at you. Fucking fluffy, white bastard. You don't even need to look out the window to know there there is snow. Just hearing the hollow, empty, cold sound of children's laughter is enough to tell you that there is no point in living today until that stuff melts. Don't get me wrong, I do think that it's pretty. It looks lovely. But then, I think a shark looks majestic and awesome but that doesn't mean I want to go near one. Especially if its fallen from the sky with the sole purpose of making me slip over. I hate that shark.

So, I spent most of yesterday indoors doing some industrial-level complaining. I can't get my podcastudio to work properly so King of Everything STILL haven't recorded a podcast and there was just no way I was ever even going to think about venturing outside. Jerk had other plans. She spent most of the day picking up every toy she has and giving them to me. It was her way of saying "I don't know why you're not taking me out but I'm fucking bored out of my mind". I had no choice. Outside was a big sack of insanity but that's where I went. Stupid outside.

I put my wellies on (now I know what they're for) and went out with a completely excited and confused Jerk going mental on the lead. None of this stuff on the ground was here yesterday and so she had to run through and eat as much of it as she could. When I let her off the lead in the park she went berserk. Running everywhere, taking as much of the white stuff as she could before any other dog got there first. It was like watching [INSERT NAME OF COMEDIAN HERE] at the [INSERT NAME OF INDUSTRY PARTY HERE]*. There's no doubt about it, I sort of loved the snow for about an hour after that. Jerk was so utterly happy, running around and trying to fathom what all this was. She came home exhausted and invigorated all at the same time. Thanks, snow.

Then it was off to the pub and, afterwards, a really nice chinese restaurant with some friends. Not only were we celebrating Johnny Candon's birthday (yes, he's still in my house. Snow has destroyed Ryanair) but we also celebrated him getting a voiceover job today that means he'll be working with the 8th Doctor on a Jameson's Whisky advert. I say I celebrated Johnny working with a real Doctor Who but, of course, it was all through gritted teeth and I'm seething with jealousy. I hope McGann turns out to be a right cunt and refuses to talk to Johnny. Don't tell him I said that. Anyway, we ate at a nice Chinese restaurant near my house and I came to the conclusion that no matter how mature, respectful and intelligent you are that you become a slightly racist child when you're in a Chinese restaurant. Pretty much everyone at my table (except me because I'm very PC) put on comedy Chinese accents and giggled at the menu. It was like going back to the seventies, you know, when racism was compulsory. Not that anyone said anything horrible, but there was definitely a lot of childishness going on. Very odd. Still, it sort of explains why our Won Ton Soup tasted slightly of piss and phlegm.

Twitter seems to have sneaked up on me and I now seem to be actually using it. I'm a hypocrite. Sorry. Right, I'm off out with Jerk for another round of "WHATHEFUCKISTHISSTUFF?". Ta ta.

* I went for Sean Meo at the Avalon Christmas party. He's probably never even been there but it's still quite a fun game to play.