Day Three, and the fun continues

Shameful. Shameful, Atkinson. I just woke myself up during a massage by ... breathing loudly. It WAS NOT SNORING. But definitely loud, and quite vocal breathing. The shaaaame. Back from town mission: mother dearest, I am having your trousers made in one extra material. They're either going to look really cool, or like someone with narolepsy on hunger strike chose them. Either way, they're maybe a little...cheffy...or sailory?

The weird thing about being in town is the constant buzzing noise, which I have now realised comes from the highly make-shift power lines everywhere. Yet more evidence:

Loads of new people, apparently there's been an influx of boys (boys! boys!), as 4 blokes have all arrived in the last day. All looking a bit shattered and in need of no-booze, no-coffee, and a bit of sunshine, detox, and TLC. Which is probably exactly how I looked when I arrived on Saturday morning. Looks-wise, now that it's very much Day Three, I'm feeling (and probably looking) quite 'meh' as the detox is kicking in. In fact, here's photographic evidence taken on my way onto town (look Larry B - it's me NOT holding an alcoholic beverage of any kind - how bizarre!).

And finally, someone has moved into the other half of my jungalow. And I can hear them through the wall. This is very bad news - mainly for them, because when I play Plants v Zombies at full whack at 11pm, they're not going to be loving me so much.

Off for... yet another massage and mcSlurry. Apparently if you get it with lemon juice it almost eradicates the lingering undertone of sand. Just had a sudden attack of the cassoulets...thank gawd France-weekend isn't too far away!