Ah, sleep it is a wonderful and yet strange thing. But in my case it is elusive. My insomnia had kicked into overdrive this week and no amount of dreams about the changing rooms for the England squad will entice my subconscious into letting me pass out.
Of course all my good intentions of using any time I have awake to do household chores to lull me into unconsciousness has failed and instead I lie there and think of Dominic Monaghan stranded on a desert island with only my good self for company....
Tonight I plan on finally watching Brokeback Mountain (I know, I know BAD GAY for not seeing it before) but I actually doubt I can garner up the energy to press play on the DVD player. What I need is a good man to wear me out. Even Rohypnol would be welcome at this stage!
Aside from the lack of sleep, this week has been rather nice. X-men 3 was entertaining and exciting in a summer blockbuster kind of way. I felt the 100 minute running time hindered rather than helped the film as they had crammed so much into it that I was left wanting more. Also, was it me or did Vinne Jones' costume rather resemble a large penis? You know, the veiny, bulky body topped off with the rather phallic helmet?