Breakfast, Dubya and GG.

Right. I feel the need to get something off my chest, and it concerns my breakfast cereal, Alpen (original, as opposed to no added sugar, if you were wondering). For the third box running, I'm finding that the proportion of raisins to other ingredients is simply far too high… yesterday, I had to manually remove 42 – yes, I said 42 – raisins from my cereal bowl before adding milk. It's beginning to really f*ck me off, so if anyone from Weetabix is reading this, will you please do something about it. Now. Because if you don't, I’m switching to Harvest Crunch with Real Strawberries without further notice. And that's not made by Weetabix!

Oh yes, I wanted to congratulate Claire (she’s very nice, and very talented) on her outstanding discovery of Dubya’s Hotmail Inbox which kind of explains why he took so long getting his Presidential Arse down to the Katrina disaster area. I mean, he seems to have a lot on his plate. (And yes, I know. The link does something weird if you leave it for too long.)

Okay, so getting back to the subject of GG... she's been over in Genoa for her friend's wedding (the one that I didn’t go to) but we’ve been texting every day. I have a bit of a confession to make actually, because as I was driving round the motorway this morning I came over a bit... well... errr, 'wussy'. And I called her. And it gets worse, because when we'd spoken I had a feeling that was almost like (I can't believe I'm saying this) relief. I’ve been missing her.

Now, I've been thinking about this whole business with C. On the upside, sex is unf*ckingbelievable; she's astonishingly beautiful; she has a body that needs to be seen to be believed; and I really, really like her. But on the downside, she's a bit... intangible (I know, but I don't have another way to say it); she's always off somewhere or other reporting on dance or extreme sports; and there's a kind of lack of synchronicity about our lives.

Before I wrote this post GG sent me a text, saying she was going to bed, and that she missed me. She also said something rather sweet in Spanish, and I decided that I was NOT going to screw this up. There and then. Maybe it'll turn out to be something important, maybe it won't. But for once my decisions are going to be made by an organ above my belt.

I think I can carry it off.

Early morning edit: God, I so need sex!