This clown is wearing a black nose (at least it's no longer a black and blue eye)

So first year finished in a blaze of glory. I wowed the crowd with a display of acrobatic prowess and Powerful stage presence. Okay, I did a bit of mime and fell off my suitcase...but you know.

And it got better because two weeks after being punched in the face by a man I got dumped by a man. Apparently a summer with me in the same country was too much for him to bear. Which folks means our joint dream of little mini ginger kids, ginger parents and a ginger dog and cat is no more. I know, cry me a river. I might be able to offer you gingers on my own but it halves our chances. Of course there's also the possibility that by the time I get over this break up my eggs will have long decided to shrivel up and die. It's alright though, I've started the healing process. I'm listening to Eminem.

Eminem is teaching me how to deal with this pain. He advises anger, revenge, a series of destructive relationships in which I should beat up lots of women or sleep with their mother. So his main advice is that it's time for me to become a Lesbian. The ginger children dream is moving further away as he sings...

Juliet and Ophelia chose suicide to deal with the loss of their greatest loves so in fact Eminem is better at advising than Shakespeare. For the record why did no one point out to either of those girls that teenage love fades? I mean if Romeo had lived he'd have grown into the man all the Mr Populars at school grow into, a drug addicted, jobless, alcoholic with a possible conviction (technically he already had several for public affray). And Hamlet had already started on his journey to a mental home or death when Ophelia fell 'in love'. Ophelia you silly girl.

I feel a little bit like someone has taken my heart, put it in a blender, mixed it with some lemon, drowned it in alcohol (that might be me), added salt and liquorice and then got me to down it till I'm sick, wherein my battered heart finds itself flushed into the sewer below our feet where we all get to tread on it over and over again. So really, I'm doing okay.

So next year I'm going to be wearing a black clown nose...

Yes that's right folks, there will be a next year. Despite my rebellious best efforts. Well, that is if one of you lovely readers gives me the 7000 euro sponsorship I need. And maybe some help with living costs as I can't be a slave girl next year. No? I didn't think so.

This time Paris better watch out because I'm Eminem trained. Punch me in the eye? Break my heart? Eminem, tell them what happens. Tell them.

What's my mother f**king name? ...er Snoop Doggy Dogg? Why dosent Snoop

Doggy Dogg have a hyphen? Is Doggy in fact his middle name?

*Recovery by Eminem is available at all good stockists. Buy it or he'll kill you and f**k your mother