Francis has yet again been assaulted. Francis being my very gay Fiat Punto. Someone’s decided it would be good to smack him in the head and crack his windscreen. Hopefully my halls carkpark will have the offender on CCTV. Bastards though, spose it’s what you get for living next to a fleet of council estates.
Rang my insurance and because it’s a bank bloody holiday, I can’t even make an appointment until Tuesday to get it fixed. Only a £50 excess though, and they’re ordering me a Fiat windscreen on my request, unlike my back passenger window which is some other make -I hate it when things don’t match 
Such an inconvenience though! I wish people would stop targetting my car. This is so because I broke a mirror last year, 6 more years of bad luck…damn.
Gosh. Right. Where do I start?
Firstly, I went to Maccy’s for lunch today, got my usual large chicken nugget meal with a coke, but took a bite into my first nugget to find a piece of bone. A piece of BONE in my chicken breast chicken nugget, my first chicken nugget as well, it ruined my whole meal. I wrapped the piece of bone in a tissue, mainly so I could take a photo of it when I got home to send to Ronald. He’ll be receiving a letter of complaint from me. Standards are defo slipping…
I cheered up when I met up with Will for lunch. Whilst we were sat in Picadilly Gardens on the step bit near the grassy area, a fat, greasy mong walked past, not only did she walk past but she gave me a lovely big smile and wolf whistled at me, not Will, but me. I was like ‘what. the. fuck?’ Lesbian come ons at lunch time in Picadilly anyone? Grim.
THEN a man came along in his blue jumper, just going ‘Jesus?’ and handing his card to anyone who moved. I just replied with ‘I’m not a massive fan sorry’, Will thought it was funny.
Even funnier was the man who swatted a pigeon away with his newspaper while it was mid-flight and on course for his head. It was done so casually and in such a ‘fuck off’ no messing way. He sure told that pigeon.
Not long after that, we saw a postman, well, not your average postman, as this one was not only sporting his blue pants and matching jacket (and of course his postman face) but also a laptop bag. Therefore Will and I concluded he must be the ‘EMAIL MAN’, while you’re all there thinking that your emails are sent electronically via the internet, nope! Think again! This guy picks up your email and runs toward the destination reeeeally fast to get it to you. He must have been on his break when we saw him, he was only walking, or he might have been carrying one of those emails that take forever to receive. God damn Email Man!
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