tiddely-pom

CHarlie texted me saying Pom is being used in the a Firetrap ad campaign. I looked online and couldn't find any images; but on visiting Leeds yesterday I was overjoyed to see her everywhere.

She "like the main one" in the YesYes jeans publicity for New Look. Here are some images of her. Look out for Pom on buses and bus shelters. There's a bit of Boar Lane in Leeds where you can be looking at her advertising for New Look, then turn 180 and see her in the window of a Toni & Guy, modelling "The Pom" (in the New Look ads, she sports a killa-quiff).

I like beer, which makes sense - it's in my blood.

Right; I've been looking up my BMI and it turns out, believe it or no, that I'm underweight.

I typed in "underweight for a guy" into google images and no images of underweight guys came up. Why? How am I able to see what's wrong if no images of underweight men?

Anyways; I'm going to try and get up to 10 stones (whatever that means), anybody fancy helping me? I'll need food donations, that that sort of thing - think of me as a year round Harvest Festival.

I'm going to go and eat the scales now.

GONE LOOKING FOR SKYHOOKS

COMING SOON TO A WORLD NEAR YOU

"It was the best of times, it was a fat drunk woman having sex with a stranger on a train."

Dear world. The worst thing has just happened.

People say, "that train journey was a nightmare. It was delayed by an hour, incredibly overcrowded and so stuffy." Well, that's nothing. I've had that - but ten times worse. I will be having nightmares about this.

PEOPLE WERE HAVING SEX!

I got on the delayed 22:18 from Leeds and chose a window seat facing forwards. Infront of me was a young guy and infront of him a fat drunk woman. Now she might have been about my age, which could class her as a "girl", but the term "woman" has the gravitas needed for her size. She was big, with a face like a plate that drifted about her shoulders as she leaned over her seat to talk to the guy infront. She was under the impression that Leeds was Dewsbury and she needed to "get off" at Dewsbury. The guy told her that Dewsbury was two stops away as he got off at Morley. She then walked up the carriage and sat near the middle of the train until we arrived into Batley, where she came back to her original seat, two places infront of me, accompanied by a young black guy with a white baseball hat and a reflective vest. She sat at the window and he the isle.

My attention was drawn away from them as I looked over my new Leeds Monopoly, purchased today. After reading the back of the unopened box I glanced at the two in the reflection of the mirror. What I saw confused me, upset me and then repulsed me. It looked at first as though she was trying to move past him, to get out into the isle, which would have made sense. Dewsbury was the next stop, where she was supposed to get off. But she wasn't moving sideways that much; and then she moaned, not the moan of a cancelled train, but that moan you heteros seem to enjoy doing.

They were having sex.

This woman went out into Leeds and got fucked and was going home getting fucked.

She didn't get off at her stop because she was getting off at her stop.

Blah-blah blah-blah blah-bla; blah-blah blah-blah-blah blah.

What's the appeal? To tell your mates you did her in the Morley Tunnel (location joke). To say to them you didn't quite make it into the Mile High Club because the stewardess was "probably a lesbian blud. Nah mate she was rough-isit", but you managed to get into the Three Foot High Club instead. (The Three Foot High Club: sounds more like the sexual conquest of midgets [or children {or midget children}]).

I moved to sit in another carriage, unable to comprehend how I should deal with the situation at hand. I texted Becky and hug my Monopoly. Scary.