Day 3 of lockdown. Day 3 sucked. I was tired from running this morning, I guess I did just over 3 miles before work.

The day was fine because I was busy at work. I left late and came home to find out that my cable was out because of an outtage in the area. That meant no TV and no Internet.

I was over the whole cooking thing, so I ordered in and decided to do my laundry. In fact, I stripped my bed and washed all of the linens that sit in storage. Just because.

The cable came back on, so I watched some tragic western with Colin Farrell and then played online video games until my wrist froze.

Then I re-read the 4 newspapers that I read each day, and monitored the major news networks online.

I spotted this gem. Can you say "return of the British Empire?" I can. And I bet Tony Blair can too. I bet he's been saying it for weeks throughout Downing street. Good for him.

I bet the Queen has been playing dress up with the Crown jewels all day, practicing her monarchial wave from the throne and maybe Phillip upgraded the piece of ass he was ordering for the evening. I imagine that Prince Charles is somewhere with Cadillza trying to roll himself up into a tampon for her. William is somewhere looking hot and Harry is probably karaoking "God Save the Queen" in a local pub. I hope he does the Sex Pistols version.

This sums up my night. I'm heading out of town tomorrow for Easter. I'll probably hit some bars with the home crew, but I am already planning my foray into the O'Doul's world.

I've decided to look at this dry spell as an adventure. And at least I'll be able to smoke freely in the bars at home.

Thank God for that.

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