What was I saying?

I probably won't ever publish an autobiography. My childhood was pretty uneventful. I'm reading an autobiography, Stephen Fry's in fact, and his childhood was somewhat more interesting than mine. I've noticed that you need to make the story yourself. I've moved fro house to house, country to country and so on, but it's really a string of life deciding to throw me around the room, then smash a bottle of Glenfiddich on my head. Life gets the glory and the wining round of bourbon, and I'm the guy who slinks away fom the saloon wondering what I was doing ther in the first place. Blogger's been annoying. It wouldn't sign me in for like three hours. Then my connection shut off, and by the time I got on it I forgot what I wanted to blog about and instead wrote about autobiographies. Hugh Grant's on the telly. I've only just noticed I currently have very similar hair to his. His run is weird, as has been established in this film. I think it's Mickey Blue Eyes. It's the one where he plays this nice guy who falls in love with a girl and then eventually after a series of subtle gags he gets her and everyone's happy. Damned if I remember the name, but he should star in an all out action film alongisde Gerard Butler and a big tough black man, like Samuel L Jackson or something.