Dominic Monaghan Ate My Hamster

“I want people to marvel at my perspicuities…it doesn’t matter what they are as long as people marvel at them.” ~ Anthony Aloysius St John Hancock

After leaving an unsuccessful eleven year relationship, Carole is now a successfully single thirty-something. She lives in an area of Swindon that is, quite genuinely, usually on fire.

She shares her mid-terrace home with two cats, Beanie and Lily Tallulah (a moggie and a pedigree chocolate point Siamese respectively). She bought her house on the grounds that the open wooden staircase could be easily demolished in the event of a zombie apocalypse. That and it was cheap.

She drives a Toyota Yaris for economic reasons, a car which has been variously described as “retirement home transport” and for “people who wear cardigans” blue Vauxhall Astra (which is slightly older than she would like and currently is mysteriously burning oil over the fourth spark plug) after her previous, new car, was killed by a fox.

Carole has a phobia about fish and would like people to know that it’s very important that the top of the Lurpak Spreadable stays nice and smooth and free from toast crumbs (otherwise the world might end).

Her DVD collection is vast and is usually in as much disarray as the rest of her life.

She works as a civilian police dispatcher and spends her spare time drinking wine, eating cheese and thinking up ways to fund a road trip across the US with her best friend.

She likes snow, gin, ghost stories, cinnamon gum, beef jerky, cherry diet coke, smelly old books and Huey Lewis.

Everything in this blog is true. Even the stuff about aliens.

Honest.