Friday morning, hours away from the weekend. It’s humid - humid like when you sweat for no reason.

I wonder what splendid news the world’s media will bring my way today… will it be another murdering junkie WWE wrestler, perhaps Larry King will give another loser socialite some air time, or could this country’s leader deliver one more cluster fuck before he leaves office? I’m riveted with anticipation.

Whilst this side of the pond is gripped with what I can only class as pure crap, half of Northern England has been under as much as 3 feet of water due to torrential rain for the last 4 days - if that ain’t the kind of news that sparks conversation and emotion, then I guess we should stick with this morning’s southbound FDR’s stuck traffic due to a shifted plate.

For fuck’s sake.