This seems a little early for Confessional; it feels only days ago that I was revelling in appalled delight at your sins, but with the way the dates fall, this is the last Friday in June. And anyway, it's hot and sunny and that brings out the sinfulness, whether heat induced fury and rage or, apparently, other stuff. Whatever. It's today.
We have a special treat for June. The Holy Tortoise is AWOL somewhere in the back yard wilderness and I am feeling far too pathetically warm and fuzzy towards humanity so I have drafted in reinforcements for penance. Yes. Today, penance will be doled out by John Knox's mean baby sister, the ferocious Tiger Baps.
Tiger Baps has been watching recent developments on Confessional and she is NOT impressed. The sins have made her purse her lips like a cat's arse, and the penance has been too weak and bleeding heart liberal. Tiger Baps is here to change all that and she's all about Punishment and Pain. Why, only a few days ago when I told her about my new dress, she told me I had to tie the weepette round my thigh silice style and tease it until its jaws clamped around my flesh, every two minutes. She's creative, she's disapproving and SHE'S HERE. And don't bother trying to ingratiate yourself with your Caledonian heritage or Jaffa Cakes. She's incorruptible.
Entirely incidentally, and not at all because I am a cowardly piece of shit and scared of Tiger Baps, I don't have much to confess this month. But I suppose I must. Onwards.
Bless me internet for I have sinned.
1. HSBC. Cough. Um. Me, HSBC, unopened correspondence, bad things. BAD. The threat of EVEN WORSE things. And yet, I still haven't sorted it out, because I think if I close my eyes, it will all go away.
2. Too many people have found out about this blog, or I have told too many people (because I don't want them to think I just sit on my arse and do nothing 3 days a week). And now they are reading it and I can no longer write about them and it's a shame because that was Good Material right there. No, CFO, I am not actually talking about you here, though yes, you too. And of course I do in fact sit on my arse and do nothing three days a week, because a blog is not a full time job by any stretch of the imagination, and I have made much less progress on the Great Belgian Novel than I would like, despite enthusiastically and foolishly imposing a deadline on myself for 1 September.
3. I can't stop pulling at the dry skin on my feet until they bleed.
4. I have had chocolate for breakfast about four times this week. I brought masses of wonderful, transfat laden British chocolate back from my flying trip to London and I am working my way through it. Whenever a meal time comes around and I go into the kitchen and try to think about food, the Cadbury's Caramels in the cupboard start singing to me and they are so easy and so delicious and it is so impossible not to eat the whole bar. Consequently, I reckon I have eaten protein (other than Bonne Maman Crème aux Oeufs - the lunch of champions) once this week, and that was tuna straight from the tin because I was in a trembly chocolate sweat and thought it might help.
5. I bought Lashes a Pokémon Platinum whatever the fuck game for an end of year present solely because I wanted the peace and quiet only Nintendo can bring.
6. I lied to the GP about having been for a smear test. I AM going. Honestly. I have an appointment and everything. Oh, and I told her I was having Relationship Issues in the hope she would give me some really excellent Belgian drugs (sadly, she didn't). Please don't hurt me Mrs Baps.
7. I can't work out whether anyone has a clue what is going on between me and the CFO from what I write here, and I fear it's probably quite annoying to read. But I don't feel I can be much more specific, what with the fact that neither of us really has a fucking clue either.
Ok. Enough about me. It's time to cleanse yourselves in the holy fire of Tiger Bap's wrath.