...BIG MOUTH STRIKES AGAIN...

I do try my utmost to get through the week without leaving a trail of destruction, smut and innuendo in my wake.

No, really, I do. Best intentions. But somehow, by hook or by crook (or by wine) I end up finding that I must yet again, reprimand myself for my unruly behaviour and promise to do better. 'Why oh why did I say / do that? And to them!' It's the dreaded feeling you get at 5am when the previous evening's escapades all come flooding back. How very unwelcome.

I think it's being in a band with three boys. Yes, I've decided I'm going to blame Noel, Rob and Darren for my deviant behaviour. Although I'm sure my parents would disagree and attribute it to birth, that's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Obviously, I am talking in riddles, we are not Sex and the City here, you will have to pull this apart and make of it what you will. (I'm just blogging, trying to find something to write about!)

When you spend a considerable amount of time in the company of blokes, and filth is on the menu breakfast, brunch, lunch and dinner there's generally speaking, one of two things a girl will do.

Turn their nose up and gawk in general horror at the group habits of males (do I sound like David Attenborough?)

Or

Join in with the lads.

I favour the latter. It's always much more fun. In fact, I can't be sure but ringleader springs to mind. Lowering the tone. Unsavory-ness. No, it can't be me. I really can't tell you anymore, because apparently I'm told (and thank GOD) '...what goes on tour, stays on tour...' (and by the way that was said in unison, by all four of us).

All I will say is..... Noel's gay! Just kidding.

...And now I know how Joan of Arc felt
Now I know how Joan of Arc felt
As the flames rose to her roman nose
And her Walkman started to melt
Oh ...

Throwing down the gauntlet for band replies!! Stick up for yourself boys, if you dare!

xx

'Any man who can drive safely while kissing a pretty girl is simply not giving the kiss the attention it deserves'. Albert Einstein

I'm sitting next to my Nana on the sofa, she's telling me that yesterday she saw pigeons doing it in her back garden. '...Strutting around, making love!...' Funny. Do pigeons make love, or do they just do it?

Welcome to my Easter Sunday blog! Haha.

AND, Nana just saw a cut of our new music video for 'No More Lies' - she likes it, so we now have the official seal of approval.

We're all here for a spot of Sunday lunch. Dad picked me up from the flat in my new car this morning and I drove back. They've not given me full custody of the vehicle yet, as I'm still trying to master the art of driving. Passing your test in a new car does not in any way prepare you (or maybe it's just me) for driving an older car. Get to the bite - forget it. Put your foot down, don't close your eyes and pray.

I don't know about you - (although actually I'm sure Darren might know what I'm on about) but I've started wondering if there is any such thing as (and indeed, whether I might be suffering from a mild case of) 'Driver Tourettes.' On Friday, for example, I was in the car driving up the Seven Hills Road from Weybridge to Cobham and coming round the corner at top speed on the other side of the road was a MASSIVE Tesco lorry. For a fleeting and shit scary moment I thought that I might swerve in front of it, head on collison type thing. Not that I wanted to, au contraire! It's a bit like being on top of a high building and not wanting to stand too close to the edge in case you throw yourself off, by mistake!

Right, I've just eaten the biggest dinner ever. I am off to digest and further consider whether I should actually be on the roads. I miss the easy days of passenger seat driving.

Never Drive Faster than your Guardian Angel can Fly (Author Unknown)

Beep beep!