I don't want to go to Chelsea

The Girl Racer and her mate the Affable H were watching Made In Chelsea on TV before hitting the town (again). Vodka supplies are rapidly depleting and the glittery gold heels are out once more.

Made in Chelsea really is a terrible TV programme. Everyone should be made to watch it for ten minutes, it would make the world a better place as people recoil from the sheer ghastly horror of it and turn to God or The Buddha or anything that is less shallow.

Last day at work for five days today. Completed my Christmas shopping, took Mrs St Roud for lunch to compensate for her ghastly morning, pitched up and behaved badly at the office Christmas Quiz, avoided the carol singing, did some last minute chores for the Chief Executive, and then hit a relatively deserted M25. Cleaned out the kitchen cupboards to make way for tomorrow's food shopping, lit the Chanukah candles, helped Dizzle with some spectacularly dedicated revision, exercised, and am now ready for bed.

Christmas, in case you hadn't noticed, is coming and I am getting in the mood ...