Was supposed to be spending last night in the company of Rebecca downing vodka in Revolution, she was suffering yesterday though and called to bail out. Poop.
Instead I wandered to the cornershop with Matt, bought a copy of The Guardian and The Face and as it was such a gorgeous evening it seemed a shame to return to the flat so we went and lounged in The Woodstock’s beer garden, perused the paper, supped Hooegaarden and phoned Steve up for a chat. Was really chilled.
Became tempted by the food menu and ended up devouring Feta salad and chilli potato wedges. Pricey, but so damn good.
Things I can’t do that are pointless but bug me [click my fingers with both hands, wink without grimacing, have one eye open the other shut (both sides)]
Why American degrees suck ass – just ask an American who has come to Britain to study, we rule! [interjection by Clay…here?]
Actually, here you go – an opinion from an unbiased broad:
pinKaboo (to a buxom brunette) asks, “Do American degrees suck ass?”
Betty says, “Yes.”
Returned home pleasantly bouncy and warm and content.
Went online and spoke to Lank for a little while, Vile was there but he rudely fell asleep on me, so…
I phoned him!
“A call outta nowhere”
heh heh. *surprise!*
Vile sounds so funny, all American like, like REALLY American. wow unreal. (More so than Pengie I think. wheeeeeee!)
Should then have probably stayed online, but instead I came off to watch a film with Matt, and more beer and me == foolish.
Hmm, have just had a nice bath and finished reading “Et Tu, Babe” – more mentalness.