So last night my parents came up to visit from the Wales. Of course they bought me the first meal I have eaten that wasn’t cooked in the microwave for about a month (I realise that sounds like the food is cooked for a month, but I can‘t be arsed changing the sentence. I thought I‘d write this massive bit of bracketed text instead).
Since their last visit I have moved house. So after food and drinks at the local, I invited them back to my shiny new house and proceeded to show them around. It was then that I suddenly remembered that I couldn’t show them my room… not because I have transformed it into some sort of Quagmire-esque love den or anything. It’s because, despite having lived in this house for four months my bed looks like it belongs to someone who prefers spending money on smack than on modern comforts such as a bed. Despite the incredible comfort of my ‘mattress on the floor and small pile of sheets’, I was too ashamed to show Mamma and Papa Ryan.
So this morning in an incredible invasion of privacy I ask you, in the beautiful, grungy, pain filled voice of Kurt Cobain
Where did you sleep last night?
February 22nd, 2007 at 12:13 pm
In my bed, surrounded by millions of beautiful women*
*Some of it may not be true….
February 26th, 2007 at 4:10 pm
In my lovely designer bedroom. I built my own bed and have beautiful sheets and bedding from Jasper Conran c/o Debenhams.
I LOVE my bed