Not long to go before Graspop now. Got the tickets, flights, insurance, car parking, coach bookings and hotel (one night only) sorted. Tent borrowed (thanks, Caz!), rucksack dusted off, camera charged up, currency converted.
OOOOOOOHHHH, roll on Thursday.
Sharon popped round earlier. Her shower is shafted at the moment (retiling going on courtesy of one of her neighbours) so I let her borrow mine. She’d just been shopping in Meadowhall and decided to try on one of her new frocks. I was tapping away on here when I heard screams from my bedroom. Unusual when I’m not in there as well.
Still unusual when I’m not in there.
“OW! OOOWWW! YOU BUGGER!”
Sharon’s new top has “laces” that you need to tie up round the back. Thing is, doing this means jiggling bits of string. Near my cat.
By the time I ran in, KK had one set of claws in the string and another holding her weight as she dangled off Sharon’s arse. Now that must have hurt.
I was seeing Sharon out to her car, watching KK go mental chasing moths in the street, when I spotted a tennis ball on my lawn. Cool. Late at night, nobody around. That means it’s mine.
With perfect accuracy, I lofted it, pivoted and welted it with the curve of my foot. I have no idea where it went. Predominantly as I was too busy watching my right slipper tumble and arc away over my car and into deep grass and utter blackness.
Cue me hopping around like a **** trying to locate my slipper while Sharon took the piss. Cheers for that.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have got to get this coursework done.