So as a handful of people have pointed out to me over the past couple of weeks, it’s been awhile since I updated this thing. And believe me, it’s not from lack of trying. There have been at least 5 attempts at applying the shocky-paddles of life to the heart of this blog. Each with varying levels of failure.
But since the last post things have changed, alot.
Firstly the major change is I’m no longer a ‘singleton’ as I have been irritatingly referred to in the recent past. Yes that’s right, I’ve found someone crazy enough to want to call me their boyfriend. But all self deprecation aside, things are going well and I feel like the luckiest man on earth.
Another thing that's changed is that I'm now typing this on a shiny working laptop. That's right...Reggie is -much like the career of Jim Davidson- dead in a tatty bag. It was a fitting end for a piece of technology who bought nothing but frustration and third degree burns. So yes you guessed it, his death involved...much frustration and third degree burns. He also took my pictures/songs with him. May he rot in Silicon Hell. The bastard.
The final piece of change in my eventful life is that I've finally left our temporary residence for a year. Floffle Quash. Rather tellingly a house named after a random assortment of letters seen on the back of a Chav-mobile wasn't the easiest to live in. Sure downstairs prison toilet (so named because it had a lock on the OUTSIDE) exploded and flooded a good portion of the house. And okay, maybe most of the rooms had a unique 'mouldy' décor to them. But it was still my home for many months and I feel rather empty knowing I can't go back without getting a court order.
It was hard leaving that place behind, so many memories formed over the course of a year. And the male bonding, oh, the male bonding. 40 minutes spent batting a balloon around one of the bedrooms in a little triangle. These truly were the hardcore-raving-Vikingesque nights I'd heard tale of before coming to University.
Another odd thing about our house was the 'spot of doom' situated just behind the T.V.. A black mark on the wall which grew as time went on. Unlike its suspiciously similar brother on one of the latest episodes of Doctor Who it hasn't nearly killed James Corden. But I'm still willing to give a try. Go on James, touch it. It'll be funny...'cause you're fat.
That's all for now I believe, I'm sure you were waiting with bated breath for quite awhile for such a riveting update on my life. Now that I've moved out I officially consider this time 'the summer holidays' what thrills and spills will I encounter during this long period of rest? Sunburn? Anger at the o.t.t. displays of jingoism while the World Cup goes along? Getting a job? Stay tuned for more exciting adventures!
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