If I said I had a great weekend would that make me a complete and utter shallow bastard?  It sure as hell would make me feel like one.

Curse life and it’s lack of foresight and planning.

This afternoon I was getting ready to go out whistling “It’s my Life” (the good No Doubt version) to myself and I was in a jolly good mood, I then realised what I was doing and what mood I was in.

I don’t feel as much of a c*nt because 10 seconds later I was dabbing my eyes.

I guess you have take the highs and the lows as they come.  Granddad certainly wouldn’t begrudge me a happy weekend and all my great friends certainly helped me achieve some semblance of that.  I still miss him though.