Fat Bastard

Haven´t felt like blogging recently. Nothing really to report, except that I´m slowly killing myself, but you knew that anyway.

Everyone that knows me knows I´m a terrible sleeper, have been since I was a child. Except, it seems in South America, where I sleep on average about 12 hours a day. That´s right, twelve hours a day.

Yurley, in Spain, is moving house today. Inexplicably, last night I messaged her and told her that, sure, I´d be happy to help her. Had to send an apologetic message this morning at 6.30 when i realised what id done.

I used to know this girl here in Rio. She´s a bit nuts and thankfully I lost touch with her. Went to a place called Bip Bips I think it was called last night with a friend of Nubias and ran into this girl. Boy, the last 9 months have not been kind to her, she looked terrible. She is a make-up artist, but I don´t think I´ve seen a girl with uglier make-up in my life. I didn´t think we parted on bad terms, but apparantly she does. She had to be pulled away from me, she was furious, and drunk. She was shouting at me, in a crowded bar, with the word ´gordo´ (fat) coming up quite a lot in her tirade. Probably followed by the portuguese for ´bastard´. Charming. The things that happen to me here in Brazil. If this had happened to me in London I´d be talking about it for years, here it just seems unusual but nothing more.

Feeling good about Liverpool´s recent form.

Went to a shopping mall yesterday afternoon. Yes, since you asked, the shop assistants were gorgeous. Why oh why oh why.

I think I´m going home this week. Wherever home is. Need to see my Dad, my as-yet-unborn nephew/niece, oh, and get a job.

Missing speaking English and talking about football with men.