Life for Lola

Blimey, rough night. Woke at 5am and couldn't return to my slumber. I tossed and turned and eventually met Morpheus as the dawn chorus kicked in. I now feel rather ratty. It's the pits really as this week I intended to rejuvinate in readiness for the weekend. The ladyfriend and I are off camping in Glastonbury with Mr C and Mr D. I wanted to be fresh as a daisy for the late nights and early mornings that will no doubt arise. Last night I lay with two slices of cucumber on my eyes whilst the ladyfriend spoke to Mizz Diane. It seemed to do the trick as the puffiness seemed to subside. Now I look like Bette Davis being interviewed by Terry Wogan again.

I was quite proud of the ladyfriend as she was yabbering away to Mizz Diane about the toxins in food, I have indoctrinated her well. Tonight there is a programme called "You are what you eat" which is worth setting the video for. I don't really like the woman who presents it - Dr Gillian McKeith - there is something of the night about her. My favourite larder lady is Jane Clarke, much more tastefully presented.