There is a Virgin Atlantic Airbus hurtling through the sky at around 800km/h somewhere over southern France and I am on it. Specifically in seat 19K.
Don't panic because from that seat, here's one I took earlier...
Yes, I always have on sunglasses, a red cap and Sennheiser headphones.
Two Nytol tablets and two glasses of red wine.
We awake and all the lights are on and breakfast has been served but I have been dribbling down the side of my Armani sweater with an empty glass of red wine in my hand.
Emma, the lovely lady in the red skirt from Virgin Atlantic is trying to prize the glass from my hand. The bitch.
And there's the captain talking about the weather and Emma who's now curtly telling people to "put their fucking* seats upright" and we're coming in to land and if you've never been to Johannesburg, this is what the city centre looks like from the air...
* = she doesn't use the word fucking.
We're running through Johannesburg International Airport to catch SAA flight 319 to Cape Town which leaves (takes off / voom voom into the sky) in 13 minutes.
No seriously, we're really running and I love a little chaos. It's feels a little like a film so I take every opportunity to make the scene as dramatic as possible.
Suitcases fly, I leap through the X-ray machine and the laptop flies out the bag and ohmygod, the newspapers I have fling themselves through the air and we tumble over the trolley and I am LOVING this.
What. the. fuck.
I get onto the plane and we're still waiting for some fuckwit. I bet they're not taking every opportunity to make their entrance as dramatic as possible.
Oh. It's some old woman in a wheelchair they're carting onboard.
We're circling False Bay, banking left over the Indian Ocean and heading on our final approach to Cape Town. Woop! Woop!
Look... even from the sky on a cloudy day, Cape Town is magnificent...
Come on, admit it, the sun peaking through the clouds and reflecting off the sea on a winter's day is breathtaking. Doesn't this picture take you there?!
Having a glass of champagne with my mother.
Afternoon nap time.
At the gym.
Ohmygod. I am at the gym and you have no idea... It is winter time in South Africa which means all the boys are in the throws of the rugby season and I have never, ever...
The gym is a sea of guys between the ages of 16 and 30 with necks has thick as their noses.
Boys who all have arms like thighs and legs that look like cannons.
It is the meatiest, nastiest most fabulous environment I have had the misfortune to train in.
Testosterone is literally sweating and sliding off the walls. And there's me on the running machine with Beyonce blaring.
I am trying to do some sit-ups but some guys nearby are eating the weights.
Back at home and having dinner and bla bla... It's so boring at my parents house that I decide to set fire to the dogs just for the fun of it.
Everyone's going to bed - even the cats have fucken turned in for the night - so I might as well too.
I am test-driving what to wear for tomorrow night. We're having a party for my birthday. Are you coming, did you get the invite?
We've had a little rumpus actually because I've invited Vasilis my Greek friend and Henry, also a friend, who used to work with Vasilis.
I didn't realise this but Vasilis and Henry now hate each other. Like serious hate, hate, hate...
So the following lines have been exchanged on the pubic (i.e. everyone can see) Facebook wall (the what?!)
"I can't believe you have invited Vasilis. He is a short little cunt. If I even fucking see him I will fucking puke all over him."
And the response is as strident... have you really read this far?
If you're in Cape Town and want to come... er [whoops! insert lesson here about not to put mobile numbers on the internet]
I really am going to bed.