A Hint and the Incapacity

Yesterday I spent a long time making texts that I didn't want to make, getting replies that were painful to hear, sat listening to this song endlessly in a spot where my Derby Uni journey started a few years ago.

It was an emotional moment, one I'm still coming to terms with.

Farewell to Words

Blimey. I have taken to using predictive text on my new phone. One of the preloaded "words" is "m8" and yet "fab" isn't in there, among many others. You know what? Billy Bragg sings in his ace new song - those who like a good kiss-and-tell must share the blame [for the NOTW closure and the like]. Likewise, if you spell like a fucking 3 year old who was kicked in the head at birth, it is YOUR fault that I have to suffer such a First World problem.

Mystery and Peace

This post is entitled after an Envy song for two reasons. One, it fucking rules and is song of the day for sure. Secondly, in March 2009 me and Nat's Dad went to New York. Part of that trip included a visit to Coney Island and oddly enough, we actually found a message in a bottle. I took the message and promised Jeff I would get in touch with the authors, even though it appeared that they were barely literate. I didn't bother purely because the contacts were for AOL Instant Messenger and I didn't have it. Or, in other words, due to laziness.

Well today, on the official move out day for Nunnery, and with Becky and Pete gone, I am fucking bored. So I decided to install AIM and look the dude(tte)s up.

It turns out that none of the profiles listed are available.

Mystery. And peace.

Go Mad and Mark

Right, bed. Tomorrow I will achieve all. Including writing on this fucker properly.