When it rains it pours

Ignoring the trouble we are having getting the comoox.com redesign fully up and running, rich and I have been having a double fun time in celebrity rehab. Here is an excerpt from my diary last week...

Technically it's neither right or wrong. Although rehab is meant to be a place to cleanse I find myself agreeing that getting pissed with robbie and britney and playing strip poker to be a somewhat sensible and frankly day to day thing to do. normality.

It's 9.45am. Britney jumps up and runs to the toilet to vomit. She's been doing this a lot lately which gives me a chance to write my memoirs. She claims it's ever since the 'up-skirt' photographs that were splashed across the globe - but I think it's because she only eats green leaves. Robbie and I exchange glances and do high-fives. What a fucking morning, he yawns. We've already drank a bottle of vodka and counselling starts at 10. We'll hide I'm sure.

Rich managed to escape through the toilet cistern last night and one of the wardens is looking for him in the grounds. We can't get out. It's in our contract. It's like fort fucking knox in here with CCTV cameras everywhere. They'll call off the alarm soon when they find him squating behind the bins pretending to be a bush or something.

Britney comes back and apologises for rushing. Where are we?, she questions as if all is well. Robbie is now naked and I'm down to my socks and 'george' underpants. Britney is wearing a three piece suit and a prada scarf. She knows her poker. neither of us has layed her yet although rich got closest whilst shaving her scalp the other night. she'd noticed his semi and curled a corner of her lip. In some countries that counts for full sex. What I'd give for a tit wank now.