She says, "It's 3am I must be lonley"

It's not three am, but that is not the point.

You know you've seen better times when you're sitting on your larrysome whilst listening to Rob Thomas, meanwhile trying to figure out how you managed to get through a pack of twenty in less than 24 hours.

I need to sort my life out.

I would, but the solutions are all quite daunting, so somehow it's easier to put it on hold. But really, there is only so long one can put their own life on hold. A few months ago this method worked quite nicely but time moves on, even if I don't. As do the people I share my life with. Not that I resent them for doing so, it just simply emphasises the fact that something does need to be done about my own life.

As much as I would like to put an end to some of my crazy, or find a way of resolving my issue of loneliness I have a feeling that realistically I will probably continue to ignore the matter, whilst attempting to convince myself that I am actually perfectly satisfied with where my life is headed, or rather where it isn't headed.

Either way, I'm probably fucked.

Mouldy Turd Nuggets.

Last night I went to bed (unless you are being technical, in which case I went to bed this morning at silly o'clock) after being up for about 36 hours. I was quite the tired bean. I set my alarm as I usually do.

This morning I woke up to the jolly theme tune from Biker Mice from Mars. I dozed. I dozed again. And then I dozed some more before coming to the nasty conclusion that I really must get up for I had a lecture to go to. I got up. It was more effort than I would have liked. I had my morning cigarette and then I showered. I then started the half hour walk into town. Being a drama student does mean that my lectures are a long way away. I try not to complain. I think happy thoughts about how much fun I will have for three hours before walking back. I purchased my usual pack of twenty, lucozade sport and sandwhich on the way.

I arrived. Ten minutes early, in fact. I was quite pleased with myself. I had a cigarette. I then began to notice a distinct lack of students. I thought nothing of it and had another cigarette and a bit of my drink. But still nobody arrived. I checked the time. I aimlessly wondered around a little. I checked the time again. It was two minutes past one. My lecture was meant to start at one. I contemplated the walk home for a good ten minutes.

I decided to get the bus back. I stood at the bus stop. I waited. I had a cigarette. I waited for 13 more minutes. Buses are meant to pass every 9 minutes. Odd. I'd been waiting at the wrong bus stop. I was not impressed. I walked home in quite a moody manner.

I got back to my room which still contains week-old rice. I checked my emails. I discovered I had no lecture. Well, I could have told myself that before checking my emails quite frankly. I then discovered that this week is apparently "writing week"Wait, "writing week"? what the hell is "writing week"? I mean, seriously, what happened to reading week? I guess it's a drama student thing.

I could have still been lying in bed. Or rather, I could have gone to collect my parcels which contain amazing things. But no, I walked to a lecture that didn't exist and then I walked back. It wasn't a particularly interesting morning. I think the most interesting thing about it was probably the rather clever combination of vulgar words escaping from my mouth.

I'm gonig to bed.

A piece of literary genius.

A poem of farts today did make my day. That probably tells you something about my maturity levels. I could blame the alcohol, but that would lessen the worth of such an amusing piece of writing. I like how my friends write about about such topics in such ways. It makes me happy.

Robots in Disguise.

Today I purchased a t-shirt which doesn't fit and wrote a press release for a product that nobody would buy. Let's just hope that there are lots of people in the world who, like myself, buy things which serve no practical purpose.

I'm relying on the stupidity of others to be successful? Impressive.

I hope you're not looking for an interesting title.

I was told to write this blog. That fact amuses me rather a lot for I was always under the impression that people wrote blogs out of choice in order to share carefully selected moments of their lives with the world. I don't really have this need. My life is quite ordinary*.

*Replace ordinary with boring and this description becomes much more accurate.

But a blog I shall write, and a blog hopefully you will read.