Turn your mobile phone into a Purring Kitty! A must for the discerning female…
(read all about it here)

“If I brought it with me, I’ve lost it, and if I didn’t, it’s at home.”
It was at this point that I knew DH was drunk. It was his leaving do last night, and yet again he’d lost his mobile phone. There followed a good night out, dancing oddly and generally ruing the fact that we had to go to work the next day. We’ll miss you DH!
I’ve got a kick up the rear by Paul D, a regular reader, complaining that there’s been nothing recently on here to regularly read. Humble apologies – but this is still the best I can muster. I’ve found in the 2 years that wibbler.com has been going that I have spurts of creativity. It’s escaped me for the past few days, and I think it’s directly proportional to the amount of Coco Pops I have in the morning.
Tonight I’m off to paint Nick M’s to paint his room. It’s currently painted from top to bottom in dark red, and looks like a brothel. Probably. The night will be more fun than it sounds – beer and pizza is being provided, and I’ll have another chance to gawp at his 32″ television again. Lucky tyke.
To top off my working week, Andria (my lucky workmate sitting next door to me) has just mentioned that she “thought the welsh choir had got into bed with me last night.” I didn’t bat an eyelid – I’d put nothing past her. It was several seconds before she explained that is was just her boyfriend snoring…

Portsmouth – It all started so innocently. Ala’a was having a birthday meal, and Elli decided this was a prime opportunity to trade stories of sexual shananigans with her girlfriends over dinner. She got so hot under the collar, a raunchy text message to her eager boyfriend was in order, and she duly pumped into her phone all the remarkably rude things she could think of, involving squid, condoms and mile-high clubs. Once finished, she scrolled through the phonebook and pressed SEND. As the text message flitted away into the ether, a look of sheer horror crossed her face…
Guildford – Yours truly was batting about at my girlfriends house, neatly arranging the pile of unread FHMs into a suitable corner, and wondering what on earth to do next. BEEP BEEP. BEEP BEEP. My mobile phone vibrated enticingly. A text message has arrived.
It was from Elli.
Now, I could tell you what the text message said, but I’m FAR too good a friend to tell you all. Aren’t I?

My new mobile’s arrived! I now feel complete again…

Oh damn damn damn. If anyone’s trying to phone me on my mobile. I’m afraid you can’t. I left it on the car roof, and then drove off. In Devon. Clever me. The lorry behind me pretty much ended the phone’s short, glittering life.
How do I cope?