Weekend Shorts, before blogger takes over the world....

I have been having a showdown with blogger lately. For the last few days, I have written out a post, spent ages editing it, and then when it comes time to post or save, blogger conveniently 'gets an error', and I lose everything. Mind you, I was being a little rant-y in a couple of them, so it's probably all for the best. So tonight it's like Weekend at Martie's, except I'm not dead and being carried everywhere like the Pope (for *ahem* god's sake people, a little respect!).

Okay, because I'm like, a slacker in sheep's clothing, my weekend starts on a Friday. Even better for me, I'm only working half a day tomorrow. Well, I have to go into the CBD for some training, but I'm not going back to work. So what else does my weekend entail? Hmmm. Let's see.........

* Friday night: a bit of retail therapy with Tart. Actually, after the week of Ex-Fucker that I've had, it will be more than a bit. I have already withdrawn some cash so I can spend more on my eftpos card. Yes I know that shopping centres are rather lame-o and terribly suburban, but it is a Friday night; it's (relatively) family friendly and just around the corner. Bite me, trendoids.

* Saturday morning my magic massage man does his stuff again on my ailing chest. Bliss. He will probably get me to open up again; apparently your lung points are also your grief points. All I can say is that he better have a box of these handy.

* Then off to see these champions take on these surprising winners last week at the telstra dome. Boy, I can't wait to pay $4.80 for some beer. Hurrah for smuggled in drink bottles.

* Unfortunately, will probably make our way here after the game. Which is not so bad, as I will get to indulge in my favourite gambl-y type pasttime, but will take a turn for the worst when Tart inevitably drags me here. And I won't even have a sparkly mask on. Hopefully I'll be drunk enough to forget everything.

* Then Sunday, shall be spending everything I didn't spend the other two days. Broke and happy. That's me. Broke and happy.

Unfortunately, I won't get to make the sex this weekend. Sugardaddy has the kids; I've vowed never to go back there with the Ex-Fucker, and unless some random hotness shows up here (and I very doubt that there will be), then I'll be nunning it. Which is kinda good, because some, uh, areas, need some, uh, attention, as they say in the classics. Nope, it's just vodka and shoes and boys in football shorts for me this weekend. And ya know, I think I like it.