I went to Leeds on Thursday, was in a queue in some toilets and the toilet attendant was in there with a woman and a man in a wheelchair. The only disabled toilet must’ve been inside the womens’.

The attendant knocks on the door of the disabled and says: ‘Please can you hurry we’ve got got a disabled person waiting,’ clearly assuming it’s just someone using the disabled because there’s a queue.

A minute later a woman comes out with one normal arm and one stump and shouts: ‘I am f*cking disabled’ waving her stump in the air.

I’m excited to give these Russian dolls a go.

Fingers crossed they should be an easy route into craft making.

It made me think about how much I like keeping a blog, I just wish I had a proper purpose to my blogging. My aim is to find one sometime soon!

I’ve come to the conclusion that if I were to follow Julie’s lead and make a recipe a day from a French cookbook I wouldn’t be enlightened, just fat.

Oh Michael Cera I heart you.

You’d be wrong if you assumed this meant they were timid old ladies though.

We’ve both nearly drowned on numerous occasions from energised participants throwing their arms to the left and then to the right, creating a tidal wave of water cascading over our heads.

The first class was kind of mundane, but then the woggles appeared! Oh the possibilities of what one can do with a woggle.