I am beginning to understand the psychology of the Cornish Pasty

Oh you pastry temptress! Every time, without fail, the second I get to Birmingham New Street, regardless of the amount of luggage I have with me, I make a direct bee-line to The Pasty Shop climbing 2000 steps, grunting, most likely sweating and pushing foreigners out of my almost crack like withdrawal way. “Traditional Cornish Pasty please.. I'll have a small one and be good!”. It wasn't until today though that I really thought about the shape and consistency of a Cornish pasty and I have realised, the essence of it is remarkably similar to my own being!! I looked at this hot delicacy (which I am; Hot and a delicacy) and questioned why there were massive knots in it. I ate them and understood – the massive knots were keeping the good honest massive chunks of potato and meat inside the rest of the flimsy casing... think about it.. how much can you actually relate the consistency of this pie to yourself??

I have massive big bits about myself (physically – love handles, and emotionally – I'm a Freudian extreme).. I have “knots of pastry”.. and when these knots of me pastry are intact and not being eaten by a semi hungry but mainly just greedy person, all my good honest natural beefy potato goodness stays inside... I'm rambling. I can't really put into words what I mean but I understand it! I am a Cornish Pasty.. I'm with you!

Another thing that occurs when at Birmingham train station is I get to see what new wonders are in the council estates gardens!! Today, number 27 has a shopping trolley which has started to rust. Number 29 has its fence broken at the back, and number 33 has some new flowers in the conservatory which was erected about a year ago now.. what a difference a corner makes in the standards of living.

I've decided to spend more time with my blog this year because I can sense my constant Facebook updating is beginning to get annoying for some people. Really, I should block those people because I'm sure the people who actually want the updates appreciate them greatly and it is those I want my personal life updates to be directed at! However.. I am somewhat of a social networking exhibitionist and that is why I keep them.. Let the world of people I have no care for see the awesomeness that is me.

Spain was ace by the way! I didn't drink hardly at all.. I find it odd to drink around my family. I feel a need to be in control when I am around them. When I am out with like minded friends though, I am a complete drunken nightmare. Last time I was out, I fell flat on my arse and then back in the middle of the dance floor.. which was NOT full so I was in the open view of the entire pub. However, I am ecstatically proud to announce that my full jug of cocktail did not leak even a drop on the descent. I am magical! I did get FUCKED off my face on the first full day though. Only in the morning because I had hardly anything for breakfast and followed it quickly with 2 glasses of Cocktail Del Dai.. which I believe that day was 2 shots of rum, 2 shots of lemon sourz (or similar) and topped off with a teeeeny bit of Tango.. it was like ¾ full of alcohol and then the waiter sort of went “pucchhhhsshhh” under the drinks machine to put in the smallest bit of Tango. It was very good. I was shiiiit faced. Newton got the most random text messages like “GET ME A HOTDOG!!”... which was MENTAL because I was physically stood next to the snack bar that served them!! but demanded poor Newton FLY to Spain and get me one especially. Seriously.. nightmare drunked.

The hotel was nice! The pool was effin' freezing though. I was the only one who got in it and was the first one of the year so far I think. It hadn't been properly cleaned which is how I can assume I was the first one in.. There was a fuck off floating fly, some feathers and what I PRAY was a piece of water logged bread sat lolling at the bottom.. although there is a bit of me that is slightly certain it was more a dead animal. Let's not think about it. It also appeared to be Gods waiting room, confirmed indeed when the lift which only goes to the 10^th floor.. the last floor.. said it was on floor 25.... definitely most likely it had taken at least a few of decrepit to heaven.. I can't assume it was purely because the lift was broken because of the sheer amount of nearly dead pensioners there were there. I'd say nearly 700 of the guests were over 70... and smelt like old muff dipped in dehydrated piss.

I LOVED the plane drive as usual! It was fabbaroo. I got some beautiful shots of the sun setting over Spain and on the way back some gorgeous shots of night time Nottingham. Me and Kev turned out to be those passengers you hate! In the middle of the flight safety speech, we were just giggling and loudly whispering “do a flip!” and “juggle juggle!!”. David shat himself lol. He appears not to be a fan of flying.

Ooh just changed at Banbury and the woman I am sat next to smells uncannily like cat food. WOW just checked out her purse as well and she has well over £300 in cash!!... possible stealage..?? No.. she has put it away. Bollocks. May follow her if she gets off at Wyc but she is reading and filling in forms so I assume she is some sort of London like folk.

I've been thinking a lot about things I would do if I had a magic time altering button.. I think that is for another blog though. Now I am going to retire into my not so cosy seat on the choo choo and prepare myself for the 10 minute walk with the worlds heaviest bag to my flat. I'll seizures in little while.