Airplanes. I hate them. I'm spending the next 22 hours on one and it's going to be a rotten time. I'd typically pop a few Gravols and pass out on Jayda's lap and it wouldn't be quite so bad, however, I am going home all by myself. Like a big girl. A panicky big girl, who's too scared of being robbed or photographed to allow herself to sleep on a plane. I don't worry about crashing, I worry about there being no place to hide up there.

Provided I make it off the plane alive, I'm spending an evening in Sydney then heading home to my Mummy and everyone else. I'll be crashing Alfie's room, and probably post pictures of my dearest in his underpants by the weeks end. He loves me best, I can get away with these things. Also, any nice girls out there? Please show yourselves, I need to hook my brother up. Sluts need not apply - and don't think I won't know if you're a slut, I can sense sluts from a mile away. My baby Buggy is too good for sluts. Too precious. Don't repost this on the Soundwave boards, please.

I'm currently in weird emotional distress. Please get me a drink, I am an Olympic athlete and not allowed to smoke a bowl to ease my nerves. Drinking myself into stupidity will have to do.