Excuse me, but there's a dead seagull on the table.

Wearing my big yellow fleecy thing, my school trews, a Hollister top, my tank top and some skanky socks with holes in...
Eating/Drinking can of slightly warm Heinken and some chewing gum that's lost its flavour...
Hearing Les Miserables - I Saw Him Once/In My Life/A Heart Full of Love Montage
Dreamt about nowt, as I recall.
Currently reading Jasper Fforde - The Fourth Bear
Present MSN name ...And if you'd like to write jokes for the show, all you need is a crayon.
Talking to no one.
Last text from Bo and Fishy - at the same time. (OOH-errr!)
Word of the Day widget, just because it's fun to say.

I just watched a video on YouTube about what I am to assume to about the effortless ease in which people can be drawn into certain situations due to peer pressure. It was the music video to The Hamster Dance Song, remember that? Well, anyway, it’s scary about what we’ll do for peer pressure. For example, in the video, some snakes in India did not want to dance until the all-air surfing, all-dancing hamsters came onto the scene and, using dancing as their method to provoke the snakes into following their example, changed the snakes’ attitudes and it was scarily swift how rapidly they did.
Advice for the children: don’t do it, however much they dance, don’t do it. Think for yourself – the attraction isn’t worth the bother in the long run. Think of the damage! The damaaaaage!!
That of course could apply to any of the threats of today: drink, drugs, sex… but they cannot even compare to the dangers of Hamster Dancing.

Onto less pressing matters, however, I went to London on Saturday and spent an interesting day with Clem catching the wrong tubes and such. There was also a hairy moment in which we may or may not have gone to Essex had we not discovered that the thing we were about to go and board was actually a train rather than a tube, because, of course, there are no tubes which go to Essex, but just imagine the possibilities of what could happen if there was… *sigh* So anyway, it wasn’t so much of a hairy moment as a slightly stubbly one, or heck, even clean shaven, as the train hadn’t exactly arrived… so we were safe.On the other hand, at that point, we were trapped in Aldern with a Circle Line tube that was going to go the wrong way (which wouldn’t have been a problem had it not been so late, because the beauty of the Circle Line is if you catch one going the wrong way, if you wait a short while, you’ll still get to where you wanted. Hence the name ‘Circle’.

Anyhoo, there was a girlladywoman who we got into conversation with as we both needed the circle line. We found out that she needed to get to Tower Hill as we did, so we agreed to walk it and she asked if she could tag along (which Clem and I translated as her showing us the way). She was a newly graduated lawyer working in a big corporation firmy thing and so when she had enough of talking to me, she spent a lot of time talking to Clem, which was fine, as I had other things to worry about, such as the growing feeling of ‘Ummm… argh?’ due to seventeen and a half years of paranoia from my mother which must have got into me somehow… (I suspect through osmosis – though I wouldn’t like to think about where the martially permeable membrane is as I’m a big prude about these things. Not a prude on a stick, as usual, though, as that would defy the point.)
So off we travelled, through some alleyways and tiny roads and big roads as well as valleys and Mount Doom until we got to Tower Hill where she wished us luck with our lives (which we returned. The luck, that is. Not our lives, as we were born with those.)
We caught the lightrail and scooted off to the Docklands after a small discussion about baby pigs, and when we got off, we discovered that we were sorta lost because Clem can’t read maps and I didn’t like to admit that I can’t either.Eventually, we found Clem’s aunt’s house after asking about a million LOCALS where the road was who didn’t know. Then we had some water and he went somewhere and then I fell asleep on the sofa which was to be my bed for the night.
That was fine and dandy, however, I couldn't shake the feeling of dread that came from my head being in such close proximity of a dead seagull on a table.
I’ll leave that discussion there, however.

Einaudi was fantastic and he did this really cool version of Eden Roc which had some kind of dance beat behind it. I really dadly wanted him to play I Giorni and/or Questa Notte or Bella Notte or whichever one it is that I really like. But he didn’t.On the other hand, I got to meet him and after frantically trying to find a CD to buy, I’d queued and got that CD signed. Wasn’t his new one though; they’d sold out.Gosh though. How cool?
I have further good news though, things are looking up with Herry, and though I hope she doesn’t read this – because it’s weird when you’re writing about someone who is your expected audience – I’m glad that things are gonna be okay, cos I’ve missed her even if we do both evidently piss each other off and now, I hope, know each other a little better from it – even if it is just not to talk to each other when we’re in bad moods/stressed and the like *shrugs* Oh well, it’s over now. But, yep, I’m looking forward to the next few weeks. Though I’m worried about what this has done to mine and Pegg’s frail friendship. But I’ll try and deal with whatever happens.

Moving swiftly on, however, my Biology coursework is coming along. I sat down at 4.30pm-ish and for the exception of having a quick meal and making myself lots of cups of coffee (which my excellent kidneys punished me for) I didn’t really move until 7.15am in which I tried to do some English, but with no sleep, that transition from Blodge to English is not easy, so I got up, then felt faint so I went to eat something, which then made me feel sick (which was a shame because it was honey-nut bran flakes which ar…. *drools*) so I went to bed and told me folks that I wasn’t going to school. I work up at about 2.40pm and then checked my e-mail and bless him, The Ham had sent my coursework back to me with some annotation (I’d sent it him before I went to bed. I wrote the e-mail, then sent it and then realised I’d not send the attachment with it… so I had to send another.) The odd thing was that when I sent the file to him, it was called ‘Blodge – COURSEWORK (CMC).doc’ and when it came back it was called ‘gnat.doc’ which I found ever so slightly unnerving, but there we are…

Anyway, school tomorrow. Fun. And I have wrote the worst essay ever for Greeny, but it serves him right for setting us irrelevant topics to write essays on for our homework. Also, to give him credit for this time, it was about Emilia who is interesting and my favourite character in Othello, but she is not someone who you can easily write an essay about because I don’t think her character has been expanded enough – it means that any essay that you do do is almost entirely speculation. Which is great for me, but not great for my English grade.

*static*