Mood:  d'oh

This week ain't been that bad so far...it's nice and easy at work, plenty of time for a fag or two around by the bins. Also the Mossad hotline has gone all quiet again. Seems that Kirk (Douglas) won't be needing any tickets to Fulham, someone told him Leyton Orient are much better to watch and it's cheaper to get in.

So I'm wandering around the hospital with my laptop shoved under my trolley just waiting for an opportune moment to type a few words. Not much going on as I said, although I did take a sneak peek at the psycho ward. I haven't been there since we had that big eared geezer who had a liking for Reg Holdsworth from Coronation Street and looking up the skirts of Christmas Tree fairies in. That's because I was banned, but seeing as we have a few different nurses working up there over Christmas I guessed I could take a look. Seems like they have some real oddballs up there at the moment, there's one in particular who reckons he rules the Universe or something, looks like that c*nt off of Flash Gordon. Sort of lets himself down a bit by constantly drinking tea and by claiming Gatwick Airport is the centre of the galaxy. I think they have their work cut out with him.

Got a call from an old mate the other day, Frankie Fraser has been running guided tours of the old East End, during the winter though there are not so many dumb Yanks willing to stump up the cash to justify running a coach. He wanted to know if I'd be happy using a tandem or pushing a trolley for those quieter periods. Told him to f*ck off...I'm not introducing Americans to the delights of the Bagel Bake...next thing I'd know they'd ship it off to f*cking Disneyworld...it was bad enough Walt nicking my idea for a Monorail...him and that mouse...right pair of thieving c*nts.

Shalom