I think I am overheating. I could not possibly contemplate wearing any one of my three new scarves because I am in vest top city. I may be poor and hungry come October but I will be warm and very well equipped scarf wise. I have been practicing throwing them over my shoulder with an air of lackadaisical confidence. Apart from the sequin one with which I am practicing elegant draping. I also have some adorable knee length brown leather Doctor Martin boots. They feel scoochy and, as M will confirm, I came very close to sleeping in them the first night. That is not to say that I would sleep with anyone on the first night and in the end they stayed in close eyeballing/sniffing (ew but yeah) proximity next to the bed.
I just noticed that I am connected through my next door neighbour�s internet. How cheeky! I already know that their password is Kadmin due to their tittle-tattling four year old son. Soo, where does mummy keep the gin?

Does anybody have a blank video that I can have before half past ten tomorrow morning? I really, really need one and have performed sad, fruitless searches about the area. Overstepping the anal mark I stuck big labels on my videos* bearing my name so that blank video stealing beggars (there are so many more about than you would first imagine) would return them to me afterwards. I think they out manoeuvred me by peeling my name off or covering it with another label bearing words like Silent Witness.

*Yeah, wrote �stuck big labels on mine� then reread the sentence

To get to the post office today to post my Libertines competition entry and my cousin�s birthday present I had to bypass the high street and go round lots of houses (going about the houses hhahahahahhahahaa I make myself laugh) because yesterday there was some kind of fatal gangland shooting and stabbing in my local pub. Exactly the same thing happened only a year ago in exactly the same pub. I thought ooh coincidence until common sense went uh, oh yeah, it�s full of yardies and rival gangs so it�s less coincidence more a matter of time. This is the pub that makes my eyes bleed and that I hate and that each time I venture there I say �You know what chums, for the love of everything that is sacred to us please can we not come here again� and they have rubbish crisps.� The landlady looks like a big scary mamma jailor and huffs around swinging her bunch o� keys. Did I mention the glamour and exuberance of where I live? At least it has character (or characters).

Anyway, who is a little bit squeakily excited at the prospect of sitting through summore lectures and seminars, reading around a subject and using their brain and a pen? The thought of somebody being informative instead of me automatically organising and helping out everyone else is lovely with a big L.

Thanks to this great and very generous person for my new non-pooh and quite groovily good design

I needed to be asleep ages ago

Inkysoso