Could Life Ever Be Sane Again??

All week, the story has rumbled on, the media has been at fever pitch and now I've found myself victim of the madness. A few misplaced words of a minister and a crisis has erupted. I've found myself obsessed with making sure I don't miss out and was determined that I'd get filled up today. Yes, Pastygate has hit me.

All week I've been longing for a pasty, a really good one, not one of those floppy greasy jobs from Gr*ggs or such places but a real, crusty or flaky, or flakily crusty I don't mind, chunky, meaty, tayta-y pasty. I started to get desperate today but knew that I'm heading to the airport tonight and there's a fantastic Cornish Pasty stall there (pictured above), everything would be fine. However, the vision of Ed Balls in a pie shop (no stranger he) ordering eight has pushed the nation over the edge and clearly all those travellers passing through Edinburgh have decided not to take the chance of there being any pastry based products at their destination. When I got there the cupboard was bare. I thought I'd head for the Wetherspoons but the kitchen was closed. Sold out of everything probably.

As if that wasn't annoying enough, it pissed me off royally that had to queue up with idiots today to buy petrol this morning, too. As someone who fills my tank just once a month, at the end of the month, on payday, like it is today, I am not doing anything I would do normally in filling up to the top. My petrol guage has been on the red for a couple of days, that's normal too, waiting for payday to roll around so why do feel like a loser for joining in and queueing up like everyone else?


WATCH THIS!!!
Panic, The Smiths