So my sister’s fella bought me one of them NowTV boxes. You know the ones that give you access to pretty much every TV show and film that’s ever been released but still leave you feeling like you have nothing to watch? Yeah, that.
Well, seen as you asked, I stumbled across Bridget Jones’ Diary on there the other day. I’ve seen it circa 40 times but recovering from a savage week at work and unable to function I thought it best to watch something that required little to no concentration.
It was only three quarters of the way through when the similarities between myself and the well spoken, chain smoking blonde on the screen in front of me became abundantly clear. Obviously…not blonde. Clearly…not well spoken. Blatantly…can’t afford to live in Borough Market. HOWEVER. The below comparisons are quite frightening.
I also pull this face a lot. Normally followed by me saying ‘Really?!’. Sometimes it’s aimed at people. Sometimes at situations. Often at comments that a passer by has made that has made me instantly judge them. Laura says I do this thing where I purse my lips and it instantly makes people feel really bad about themselves…apparently it’s really cutting…No idea what she’s on about.
Most Sunday’s in the winter, I like to sit on my sofa, in my duvet, and eat an entire bar of Galaxy. The above image pretty much epitomises my winter weekends. It also signifies how well a duvet does at hiding the rolls that appear around your midriff after the 6th bar of Galaxy. It’s like a feather down confidence boost.
I’m also proper shit at kareoke. Trust me. It’s bad. Like, really bloody bad.