29th of March-2nd of April

I spent all of Monday making a stew. This is a sentence I have never previously written or said. I want to improve my cooking skills but the qualm I have with making a big meal of food is that it takes up almost all of your day. Why is this a problem when I spend most of my days twiddling my thumbs and masturbating? Well it’s boring and invariably not worth the effort. What makes it worse is that I’ve recently been watching MasterChef. When you watch people create these breathtakingly tasty dishes and then I go and make a pile of brown shit, it makes you feel pretty dejected. I still want to go on that programme and make toast. I’d love to see Greg Wallace’s podgy visage when I say, “today I’m going to make toast, with an Olivio and honey seasoning accompanied by a goblet of PG Tips.” I bet Greg would still say “lovely!”

I played Comedians football again, which is quickly becoming a weekly ritual, which is hopefully preventing me from becoming a Greg Wallace lookalike. I also went to the Diner on Wednesday. A place I have started visiting regularly. It’s become my rubbish British version of the restaurant they used to frequent in Seinfeld. There is a woman working there who sees always gives me a knowing smile. I can’t work out whether it’s a flirty smile or a smile that means: you come here all the time you sad bastard. That’s the problem with body language: it’s too ambiguous. The worst one is when you catch someone’s eye in a bar and they stare back at you. It either means we both fancy each other or it means, “why is that creepy dude staring at me?” It’s normally the latter.

Easter Friday was the highlight of my week as my housemate BJ (as in blow job) was off work so I had someone to hang out with. My sister also came over to see the flat. I did not show her Chatroulette as I did not want to expose my 22yr old sister to strange erect cocks. BJ created home made sausage rolls, which were belting. They would have beaten the crap out of my beef stew in a fight. They wouldn’t have just beaten it up, they would have maimed, raped and kidnapped it. His culinary skills are certainly superior to his taste in films. He suggested we go and watch Clash of the Titans, which has to be the worst movie I’ve ever seen in the cinema. I always have fun in the cinema because it’s loud and lot’s of stuff is happening in front of your eyes but this did push the boundaries of enjoyment. As a fan of crappy action films, I thought I might like it but Liam Neason’s tin foil costume, and Sam Worthington’s acting which makes Joey Tribbiani look like an oscar winner, made me want to be physically sick. The only good thing about it was Gemma Arterton who as the kids say is “well fit”. I’m pretty sure at one point she stared directly at me. It was not a flirty stare; it was a look that said, “I can’t believe you paid money to watch this pile of wank”….