Up The Junction

Shel bought me the two preggers testing kits during The X Factor. She kept Colin and Dad chatting whilst I buggered off to the bog to find out if I am gonna have a baby or not.

One of the kits said yes, the other said no. Shit. Where is my knicker-lasagne when I need it? Bring on that blood tide, I aint ready for no brat. Especaily if its that bastard 'do everyone for a quid' pig dog man that made me suck and fuck for a crappy admin job. I feel so stupid now.

Col was strangley quiet all night. He didnt want to have sex and hasnt ended up staying. He said he was nackerd after teaching the newish lads their akeido moves, he is so proud of them and said one was cumming on realy well. He takes it realy serously though and I sometimes feel that I come second to marsial arts.

Still, I am probebly feeling all emotoinal cause of hormones or whatever. Shit, that means I realy am up the stick doesnt it?

What am I gonna do? I cant sit it out for more than a week or I am gonna start being sick. The last seven times I caught pregnant I was vomming within five days. At least I will know sooner rather than later.

Say a silent prayer for me. Emma, Nicci - just think back to all those times when you woke up shitfaced in a strangers flat in Cambridge. Wondering whether you were pregnant or in need of colonic irigatoin to get rid of the rugby teams 'deposits' that theyd left after getting you pished on absinth. You must know how I feel right now.

Sham needs her mates right now. If only I had some 'mates' when dirty dave did me. Fuckety doo dah, my life is like a BBC3 drama. Cheaper, but amusing in plaices.

Laters x