I can't move for the newspapers in this flat. Since the death of Michael Jackson (R.I.P. diddums) mum has bought any paper with his face in it, i.e. all of them.

Pathetically is has been rather up and down in my own head quite recently, some seem to be unawares and some bear the brunt of it more than others.
(Sorry!)
But things are looking up.
And we'll leave it at that, you nosy parkers.
^_^

I had a dream I could fly last night. How stereotypical! But whenever I am lucky enough to dream of having flight it's always laboured in its own special way. Like it's my power of flight rather than THE power of flight. As in it's bound to be stilted in some way. For instance it was difficult to control and was more like floating whilst waving my arms about like a numpty, crashing into walls and people. Majestic.
So last night I squandered my powers by flying up and down the stairs of the close, then accidentally into someone's bathroom which was inexplicably and awkwardly outside of their own living space.
Just so you know.

I failed to mention how my miniature shindig went down. I think it was enjoyed by all, or at least I hope it was. The night kicked off with a bang - crisps and Sammie's Monopoly. Not just any Monopoly, but the Vintage Edition. Welcome to the jungle.
After a lot of laughing, spilling and mashing cake into the carpet, we later put our lives on the line by walking down Maryhill Road at midnight for the sake of getting Jordan's pyjamas. I heard someone was shot there, but you need sleeping gear.
The rest of it afterwards was a disconcerting blur, but at least Pokemon was on the next morning.

Hooray for the postman! He's brought my EMA-bursary-grown-up-type-things today, after many attempted phonecalls and two successful phonecalls which I had forgotten the gist of as soon as hanging up. Yes, it is essentially a mile-long form, but someone's bound to help me with it if I wander around with the "confused" face on all night.

I'm quite jealous of the people at Glastonbury PURELY BECAUSE Rolf Harris was there. I heard he got his wobble-board out too.

Is anyone else paranoid about Black Tongue disease?
"Embarrassing Illnesses" is going to be the bogging bane of my life.

I want to go places and do things with someone but everyone seems to have gotten really fed up with me really easily.

Mum phoned just there. "You need to stop staying up late and sleeping in like this, you're wasting your day. Although mind you, what else would you be doing?"

I rest my case.