So this is her and she's still not really finished as I haven't done her display base (she's going to be standing on a large pink flower) or dressed her yet but the buyer loves her and wanted her.  I don't think I've ever been happier

I've been avoiding my friend because quite frankly her constant whining and man hunting is starting to really grate on my nerves.  She's always got a different man on the go and these "relationships" usually last no longer than a week.  This is how it goes, she meets someone (either online or in a pub while shitfaced) invites them back to hers, does or doesn't sleep with them (don't care either way) then they tell her the next time she texts, rings or chats online that they don't want a steady girlfriend.  She then cries and bitches to me about men using her for one thing, I console her and she moves on to the next victim.  I've told her if she wants to stop being used for sex then she shouldn't shag them within a minute of meeting them.

BUT...she still has all these "ex's" come round her house at night even though she reckons they are now only friends.  Now she's chatting to some squaddie in Iraq who she says she's falling for (excuse me?) and is "waiting for" and yet she still has her last ex who she only split with a week ago come round to stay the night.  But she says she's not a slapper.  Sorry love, if it looks like a duck.....  Twelve men in 6 months hardly makes for convent material.

So I've stopped going round so often and I actually blanked her 2 phone calls this morning as I don't know what else to say to her.  I've tried my hardest to get her to realise what she's doing is stupid and dangerous especially seeing as she doesn't use protection when she's copping off with all these different lads.  Plus, her 6 year old son is seeing all these blokes come and go and it's started to affect him as well as he's really started being a little bastard to her.

I don't want to do it anymore, she's a grown woman and needs to learn to cope with her own life without dumping it all on me and I'll be telling her later as I'm running out of polite excuses not to see her.  She'll probably end up hating me.

I don't pee behind the toilet seat and on the floor so I object to the fact that I'm the one that has to sort it out.  But there's no point asking who did it as both reckon it wasn't them.  That's right, I have a phantom widdler in my house who creates puddles when my back is turned. 

Nothing...not a look, not a mention...nothing.  Not even a "your work has made me want to gouge out my eyes with a spoon, please don't post again".  How am I supposed to sell something if a group of over a thousand people who supposedly either make or collect one of a kind polymer clay figures don't give a flying toss about what I'm doing.  I know I'm not a big name artist like some of them in the group whose work sells for big bucks, but surely as a new artist my stuff is at least worth a look?  After all, isn't that the best time to start collecting someone's work, when they are relatively unknown and you can pick up their stuff for next to nothing?

My computer is only 2 months old, it was bought to replace a computer that was savagely murdered by my unthinking twat of a fella.  I loved my old computer and had spent a couple of hundred quid getting extra memory for it, a shit hot graphics card, better sound card and an extra disc drive...it was my baby and he fucked it up, not once but twice.  I was furious for a week or so each time and then got over it.

He also broke his laptop, not once but twice.  Firstly by punching it in a temper, I had it repaired (against my better judgement) and then by hitting it with a dining chair in yet another foul mood, it's still broken and I'm not getting it repaired this time.  I got over that as well eventually.  Back to my brand new computer with the 19 inch monitor.

We were having a bit of a disagreement (not even a proper row) over who had locked my dog in the garden and forgotten about him being out there, I know it's a petty thing to fall out over but I love my dog and was annoyed at the thought of him being outside for so long.  I know he shut him out as it's something I would never do.

Apparently I wound him up by accusing him and he did what he usually does when annoyed, he lashed out.  His target?  My fucking computer!  He threw the keyboard and it hit my monitor and broke it.  It's got a whacking great round "hole" in the side with what looks like fracture lines over almost two thirds of the screen and half the screen is totally black and nothing can be seen on it.  I saw red as for the fucking fifth time he had broken something unneccessarily because of his temper.

To say I kicked off is an understatement, I went totally apeshit at him.  I won't bore you with the details of what occurred in the following twenty minutes, let's just say it wasn't pretty and scared my neighbour to death as she honestly believed I was going to kill him.

He kept saying it was an accident which just wound me up all the more because you can't "accidently" throw something at something else and not expect one of them to break. 

That was at about half four this afternoon and I'm still incredibly pissed off about it.  I can't even use my old flat screen monitor as I sold it to my friend for a tenner so I've had to borrow her old monitor which is a giant box of a thing. 

Maybe I over-reacted, but a person can only take so much before they flip out and I had reached my limit.  He says he'll replace it but how the hell is he going to do that when I'm the only fucker with money coming in?

I absolutely did NOT hide it from him at all...wouldn't dream of it...don't know what you're talking about...do you have proof I moved it? 

The dubious contents of the bag looked a bit like some form of offal but it was a bit green and slimey.  Yuch!

Anyway, I picked up my dog and took him to the bathroom pretty sharpish and attempted to get him in the bath, which wasn't that easy even though he is a Jack Russell and only weighs 5.7 kilos.  Any Jack owner will tell you they are feisty, stubborn little bastards and if they don't want to do something, well, let's just say you have a fight on your hands.

After 5 minutes of being clawed at and being soaked every time he shook (which he took great pleasure in doing roughly every 20 seconds)  I left the bathroom with an altogether nicer smelling pooch, but one with a fouler temper than usual.  He spent 10 minutes running madly about and rubbing himself on the carpet, bed, sofa and everything else he could find to dry himself on and now he's sat glaring at me like I'm the worst owner in the world.