lookalert

At least, according to Aristophanes. After the mockage the idea of a blog recieved this evening I felt compelled to write something. Of course I have little to say, given I am going nowhere and doing nothing at the moment. We're all turning into a bunch of morons and by the end of the year will hate each other, from hours of being closeted in the living room watching soccer.

Not looking at anyone while I say that, of course.

Not that I don't like soccer. [Yes, I don't.]

Now, having established that, I have nothing to say. I'm talking to George online, and I know you're awake...can see your light under your door. What a sad flat this is. Speaking of which, we need a name for the New Flatmate. also the Boy Next Door is no longer, um, next door. Should we replace that too?

And now, for a mandatory cricketing mention: [heh, MANdatory MENtion...]

Franky. What a man. He amuses me no end.

Much like McCullum. What a little man.