Tonight, Belle & Sebastian.

Tomorrow, 16!

Today I didn't shower and ended up smelling like those library books.

Gramps took a fall yesterday and broke bones.
(Ah Dr Parkinson! Your cruel disease plagues the kindest men.)
He spent all day crying.

This odd little gripe in my stomach is rather queer.

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Today, I reasoned that Tramps must keep their library books under their armpits instead of in their pockets, because after I came home and smelt everything I'd borrowed (4 cds and some DH), it was all work and no play for Mr Muscle and I.

Saturday contained a bourgeois little garden party that ended up with me groping Naomi's breasts
in a rather spectacular rendition of 'Toucha-Toucha-Touch me'.

And Sunday, well Sunday was just a bit shit.

Today I befriended an odd little kleptomaniac named Sheila ( Read more... )

It was nice to see Brennan again.
(Even though, I guess Peter's more appropriate now - as he told).
And tonight?
A bit of wine, a bit of DH Lawrence: it was nice.

All the Blake arrived in the post.
Lots of reading, spirituality and beauty.

Wednsday blues are head,
Science then pointless labor.

Oh boy, school gets better and better.

Leon: I drank the most but you talked the most. Shh! Our dancing was absolutely brilliant though.
Rhys: I'm upset you made a move on John and not me!
Deepali: Well done for throwing food at Rhys.
Prianka: I can't seem to recall anything I said to you. Shit.
Jade: More beer?
Matt: 7 times and sober! I'm very sorry, and thank you for sharing; in my ( Read more... )