New Years Eve, eve

New Years Eve, eve......I've never been a a fan of New Year. Too many part time drinkers not enough bar staff - the eternal conundrum. These people should stay in. Jools Holland's on, that's always good. I'll watch it on Replay...hungover.

(As a quick aside, why isn't Heroes on Replay and only on iplayer? That's very poor)

Today in the office isn't any better. I'm toying with the idea of going to Primark at lunchtime. This is dangerous for reasons which are two-fold. I don't like shuffling old people and I'm prone to panic attacks. Primark is the twitchy finger on my trigger.
I need some shoes though, flat ones. I bought some heels which is unusual for me. Having sworn to "never wear them again" it would be remiss of me to break such a promise to myself. Anyway, i'll probably end up walking home and the "Winehouse" look is not hot. Torn tights and carrying your shoes is best left to the professionals, if you see what I mean.

They've just played Gas Light Anthem on XFM. My housemates rave about this band. Im not seeing the appeal on this example. Sounds like Scouting for girls if they listened to a lot of the Boss. They might do...I don't know, but if they did they'd sound like Gas Light Anthem. In my opinion.

This afternoon before my early exit I'm going to learn how to balloon model thanks to a secret santa present from the pound shop and make a plastic version of a pandora bracelet with prizes from Christmas crackers as charms.
I hate Pandora Bracelets. What's the crack there? They are the Pokemon of jewellery. And they make you look like a gypsy and not in a double denim chic way like Kevin Rowland from Dexy's, more like a magpie that went nuts in H Samuel. I won't be getting one.

Onwards to Primark!