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MDF For The Soul

My personal botch job on my emotional life...

I used to be a colossal piss-artist who existed solely on a diet of Marlboro Lights, red wine and McDonalds breakfasts. Then I gave up smoking, knocked a load of food groups on the head and now I have a small person called Romilly to take care of. So bang goes my weekly case of red wine.

The only vices I have left are

a) a penchant for spending daft sums of cash on premium skincare
b) Montezumas vegan chocolate
c) swearing prolifically

As a result, you may find this journal excruciatingly boring. There's rather a lot of 'pregnancy' stuff (bleurgh) and a reasonable amount of 'god, how annoying' stuff. Sometimes there are photos. Hell, if I'm feeling saucy I might even have a stinking rant or two. They can be quite good fun.

Anyway, what I'm trying to say is; this is my journal. One day I might be self-indulgent enough to print off some of it and keep it for Romilly. That way she can read how delightful her mum was during pregnancy and when she was tiny. But then again, I might be too embarrassed. Who can see into the future? Not me. I'd fucking love to though. I hate surprises.