I prefered the devil when he was red and blamed that guy

This cat is called Sissi, she is fat

I was just about to walk towards what is popularly labeled Manchester when I though I'd wangle onto the internet and vent about the lack of cornflakes in my flat and the amount of bowls that were unwashed today. Alas I have not had any cornflakes today. It's all about Weetabix anyway.

So Hello!

I've just been reading through the Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy after the longest recorded book reading hiatus ever since records began. It's been about 6 years since I last picked it up. But anyway it's so I can transfer immediately to the 'tribute' by Eoin Colfer as soon as possible, so at the moment in between applying for everyfuckingjob I'm also reading about the famous Krikkit Wars. Amazing. But anyway for now I am sat in the usual space, assuming the position, and while I read what the internet has to offer and listen to various features Spotify can hand over.



The past weekend has involved spending what should be my rent of cheap alcohol, dragging lost Goolies around Manchester to buy more cheap alcohol and swearing at little AU children.

If there's anything the world can do without it is AU children. They flock in their waddles with their sports hoodies on and accents and occupy space that could easily be occupied by someone five times more objectively useful. They talk on their phones about what happened the previous night and how they ended up at the generic nightclub name here and saw a number of people who either abbreviate their name by shortening it and adding Y to the end. And they take their shorts and peroxide hair to the nearest group of clones of themselves and then proceed to stand in queues at supermarkets buying nothing but sainsbury's own vodka and cola.

Perhaps because I have as much motivation as fucked treadmill but I do not 'get' these people, and perhaps because I have some deep desire to be them is the reason I find the strength to hate them. Perhaps I wish I could walk around in shorts all of Winter and wear a badly produced hoodie with my witty team name printed on the back and consider myself cool.

Perhaps next time I walk around student areas I'll walk on my side of the pavement, and they can walk in front of a bus.

And don't even mention rich students.

Lots of Love

Dougal

XxxxxX