Square Eyes

Disgusting lurgy has one again laid waste to all I survey. Still plunged in bosom of family (rather like a twentysomething carvingknife), currently lying on sofa with a temperature and the five channels As God Intended Them (digibox-free and with, due to great age of TV, a big grey stripe down the side). Accordingly, am harbouring such feverish thoughts as ‘How beautiful is Zac Efron?’ (no, really, he’s like thingy from Twilight’s small cute brother, cf The One Show), ‘do I in fact want to be a nanny in the States?’ (Nanny 911) and ‘Please tilt your head, Daniella Westbrook, I want to inspect your reconstructed septum’  (EastEnders, now on).

Apologies if I owe you an email or similar. Mit liebe und kisses. CV.

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