1,2,3,4,5,6

Crooning on my STEREO: Tears and Rain by JAMES BLUNT

TIME: 1:02:03 a.m
DATE: 4.05.06

Dear Diary,

Okay. I am not writing this exactly at 1:02:03 a.m. They were raving about this auspicious date and time where it only coincides once in a few hundred years. While some lucky friends of mine got their marriage proposals, let me enlighten you with what I did that night.

I had the entire house to myself. Sis is happilly in Europe while parents were holidaying Down Under. American Idol was on telly, so I was inspired to create a solo rendition of 'ALL BY MYSELF' in the karaoke room downstairs. Truth said, I souded like a wailing pig in the slaughterhouse.

As I couldn't reach the high notes, I choked out all my unpleasant memories and summoned the courage to gulp down half a 1 litre bottle of Smirnoff. Honestly, it was such an amazing feat because it tasted like car polish.

Well it got me pretty high for a start.

So I decided to switch off my mobile phone. Ignored the house phone. Unplugged the internet.

I locked myself in that room. No, I aint gonna slice my wrists with a butter knife.
I dimmed the lights and hallucinated Randy, Paula and Simon's presence a few feet away from my microphone stand. I chose 'SOMETIMES WHEN WE TOUCH' as an opening number. Well, I rocked it. I bet I could kick Fantasia's arse when it comes to screaming out dynamic notes.

So I gulped down some leftover cooking wine.

HELL YEAH.

My next attempt? 'THE END OF THE WORLD'. Phwoarrr... exploded with so much of emotion. Man, I swear I can do a kick ass cover of this song.

I downed a glass of random brandy I found at the bottom of the bar sink. Whatever. So I decided to croon a highly emotional number:- 'NEVER BEEN TO ME.' So emotional that it got the neighbourhood dogs barking. Even my own dogs were embarrassed to woof for a start.

Next on, I scrurried for a pretty ancient bottle of rum in the hindsight. god knows where that came from. At that point, my vision was pretty screwed up, so anything in a bottle HAD to be alcohol. Tasted shit but what the hell. So I grabbed the mike, stood on the couch and did the ultimate encore: - 'FLYING WITHOUT WINGS'.

Now, thats gay.

Slouched on the couch and on the verge of puking, I decided to put my self-induced poisoning to a HALT. It was 3 am and I've got to screw myself in the office the next morning.

WHATEVER.

Guess what? I am single.