Reasons to be cheerful… one, two, three

Confessions of a geek: Viva Ikea and happy hour is here

In 1979 Ian Dury released the song “Reason’s to be Cheerful” in honour of this I attempting to write a column based on me trying not to be a moaning mini.

My first reason is Cava, its currently 3 quid in Asda I almost enjoy it as much as I hate that ridiculous Soco (Southern Comfort) advert – the one with the theme tune which makes me wish someone would drip wax in my ears and beat me round the head with a dead badger. The bubbles make me think I’m still 16, don’t have a saggy arse and am likely to find a boy like Sid from Skins in 42’s. I also wish I met a boy like Sid when I was 16, his patheticness is endearing and I believe he has hidden depth. But I think his beanie hat needs to be washed with at least three brands of industrial disinfectant, similar to the strength of deodorant needed by Austrian shot putters as he hasn’t removed it since the start of series one. It also explains my current inability to write longer paragraphs. If I don’t finish writing this before the end of my next glass I will be reduced to bullet points.

Reason two, bless my size 5 polyester socks, is an embarrassing confession to say the least. Ikea makes me happy. They have set up the entire store so that you can blindly follow a trail of shiny white arrows that leads you through Swedish home heaven and straight out the other side where you are met by hotdogs and ice cream. In my opinion this is magnificent as I have always been a girl that cannot decipher maps, I believe the mystifying Manchester A to Z is the work of the devil sent to consume both my intelligence and tolerance as I inevitably always end up lost in areas filled with teenagers that believe tracksuits should be worn with earrings easily large enough to lasso a sombrero wearing donkey. Next time I visit I will take one of those pedometer things that usually come free with breakfast cereal as I must have racked up miles.

And finally last week I was filled with joy due to my blender, it not only crushes ice for highly tasty but alcoholic sea breeze cocktails, creates smoothies from strawberries and bananas which are a damn sight cheaper than buying Innocent ones, but with two potatoes, a leak and a stock cube, it makes great soup. What a multitalented lump of plastic! After acquiring an infection in my wisdom tooth, which provided me with the wondrous combination of eye watering pain, a face that resembled a smacked arse and an inability to eat solid food I came to the conclusion that womankind cannot survive on chocolate Yazoo milkshake alone. The answer was simple, soup and cocktails. With the right marketing this diet could be on the front of Heat magazine by Christmas.