JFC (Jesus fucking christ, but trying not to swear too much cos my family read this blog and I’m still not allowed to swear around them. When I was like 7 I called the dog a ‘Bugger’ (in my defence, he was was not co-operating in the game ponies. He didn’t understand the concept of ‘pretend’. Ben, be a horse, no Jenn, I’m a dog and you’ve now permanently damaged my back) My dad told me off and he said it was because I didn’t know what the words meant, which is totally flawed logic because I now know what bugger means and I still can’t use the word, fuck.)

so anyways, JFC, Gina just got sent flowers by her BF Jord, meanwhile I ate a really unsatisfying peach. Jenn and the giant peach.
The past three days of my life have been spent at work. We’ve been here until the wee hours and I’m now in a state of deliriousness. We went on a Wagamuma run for the whole office and accentually fell into Barrio Central cocktail bar. We didn’t order any drinks technically, the drinks were thrown at us and they unfortunately went our out mouths and I might complain. They weren’t even tasty. (See pic 1)
The week before last (not sure if this is chronologically correct, but sod it) me and Gee had our birthday party. I wore a see through rainbow dress. Nice one Crothers. I also passed out NEXT TO my bed at 2am. Again, congrats on the life choices Crothy ya fecking weirdo.
Anyways lots of lovely people came. Here a picture of me with Gee at said party (Pic 2). Then, the next day my mummy came to see me. She made a lemon drizzle cake which was GREAT and I ATE ALL OF IT. We went for lunch at the Red Lion and Sun in Highgate, which does the best food, like ever. I’m serious (oh right Jenn, we thought you were making a joke) but seriously I’ve had a roast dinner at the Groucho (boast) and they ain’t got nothing on this place. If anyone’s reading this, thinking, god i’d love to take Jenn out for dinner, let’s go there. Unless you’re creepy or have already asked to go for dinner with me and I blamed my job for having no time on my hands, because I was lyinggggggg and I just dont wanna go for dinner with you, and how can you have time in your hands it’s not a real thing THIS IS NOW A JOKE IM LYING AGAIN. Confused? me too, let’s boogy.
Then Mum and I went into Camden, on a hot Saturday: BIG MISTAKE DONT DO IT. WE TOTALLY DID. We went for a fancy iced tea where you pick the ‘leaf’ (if you will) you want, (See pic 3) then they ice that shit. I chose one called Notting Hill cos it’s fancy and light and flowery, a bit like me. I also decided I now want to buy a brown leather hat, thoughts? Mum said I looked very pretty in them, therefore they must look good on me. My mum would never lie about whether an outfit looks good or not, just like when she, for my entire childhood, cut fangs out of orange peel at Halloween, and made our capes out of bin bags. MUM I LOVE YOU BUT THAT WAS NOT OK KIDS  HALLOWEEN OUTFITS CAN BE BOUGHT AT A REASONABLE PRICE AT PLACES LIKE POUND-STRETCHER AND SIMILAR OUTLETS AND I RESENT YOU FOR THIS.
The beginning of last week me and Gee sat in Starbucks on Oxford Street and watched the sun come up (see pic 4), whilst prepping for a pitch at work. It was actually quite wonderful, and humbling- like Gee always says it’s so easy to forget where you are sometimes. A few years ago I would have found being in London so exciting, and now it’s nothing, so mornings are one of those things that help you remind yourself of the place you’re in, like looking at someone you take for granted and suddenly feel a rush of gratitude towards them. It feels really gritty, like the most real part of the day. You’re so tired and yet so awake that you’re really conscious of everything. In the afternoon, your body is fully functioning by itself- it’s a very passive time of day, and the night-time you’re on shut down mode (or drunk mode). The morning is when you have to put extra effort into everything, so you’re weirdly feeling it more, which is nice. 
Every morning I have to water two pot plants that are probably dead anyways. They’re Gerry’s and this new morning ritual is terrifying. The stairs to the plants are littered with spiders. Grandad black ones, baby tiny ones, mummy clear legged ones- all awaiting my arrival at 8am. Like some horror movie I throw myself into the darkness of the stairwell (still haven’t figured out which light switch to use, in hindsight it’s probs for the best, so I don’t see my arch enemy). I’m convinced spiders can smell fear. Have you ever had a shower and those clear legged mummy ones hand around all spindly and see through-y, minding their own mummy spider business, then BAM the assholes (sorry family) drop down and kinda float around at face height. Then, looking like a sorta skinny snowman covered in foam of various sorts, I have to stand there negotiating around the mummy spider, who’s clearing just fucking with me. Anyways I watered the plants and that’s the main thing.
At the Groucho last Friday I told Alex Zane all about how I went for a run in Highgate woods. (See pic 5 for pre Groucho Vibes, then pic 6 for hungover emotional D&M with Jonie the golden elephanty) 
The story goes, that Jennifer Yellow hat has decided at last to get a buff bod, so off she popped to the woods. With her favourite Iggy Azelea music, overpriced trainers and brainwashing Nike app, she was ready to go. The day was beautiful and the sun shone like a juicy orange. The clouds were candy floss tufts, dancing around the sky, and the magic woodland (it’s now magic because it will give the story a sense of mystery) hummed with the jolly sounds of bees and fluffy talking mice, scurrying around and going to the shops to buy things in jars (seems an appropriate thing for talking mice to do, especially if we’re talking about a stereotypical magical woodland, which always seems to be set in Victorian England). What was the point? Ah yes, I’m in the woods…
Jennifer Yellow hat was running very fast indeed, because she’s secretly a pro athlete, when suddenly, WHOOSH! out of nowhere, a giant evil beast attacked her. She fell to the ground, helpless, while the beast’s owners stood around and chanted their monstrous spells.
Actually it was a dog with a very middle class family, who tried to wipe up my blood with their middle class tissues. (see pic 7 for full blood image)
Moving on. 
Last Saturday Gee and I sat on our roof eating Being & Jerry’s, (see pic 8) which wasn’t strictly part of our diet plan. I say, ‘was’ not, ‘is’ because I’m pretty sure the diet plan is kaput, gone, finished, in the past, let it go.
Last Wednesday I went to see Gee’s sister’s standup comedy sketch show called, MASSIVE DAD. Check them out- they’re doing Edinburgh Comedy Festival! Yay! I’m not going! Crap!. Before all this merriment, we took some beers to Soho square. (See pic 9)
Also I’ve got some pictures i’ve taken on my runs around London. (pic 10 & 11) I’m getting well into it. Refer to my wet paragraph about ‘mornings’ and ‘feeling it’. Who am I kidding? London stinks and nobody likes mornings.
Seeya. 
Oh quick thought I just thought: I’m sad about not looking like the Oslen twins.
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