From being a pain in the arse, to having one.

Well, the story of my summer I now choose not to share in detail, because it wasn't the same as last year, I feel different, and doing so identically would be really bad generally. The purpose of my intrusion onto the Internet has evolved and telling people about what I do just for the sake of making them jealous is bloody pointless and mean and unfunny. So there. Incidentally, I went SCUBA diving in Marseille and surfing in Biarritz, with my first ever proper hangover at my cousin's while visiting Universities and gettting through London on that day when err nothing much actually happened and there was all that critical security fuss.

It's the end of the world as we know it, but I feel fine.

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Oh yeah and my arse is killing me because I went through surgery (general anaesthetic and all) to have a cyst removed from just below the smalll of my back. The op went fine and I'm recovering OK. Apart from feeling like I have a ping-pong ball strapped into me.

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Today me and Alain marked the one year anniversary of the red bull adventures by having a litre of Kick (the amazingly good (and cheap!) Tesco clone) between us. Hence all this posting all of a suddenness. *twitch*

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I have the solution to the problem of terrorists blowing planes: give the same amount of newspaper space to plane crashes as to car accidents, which kill loads of poeple every day; namely, zero. No coverage, no point. End of problem. But let's just hope no terrorists get the idea of putting a large suitcase bomb in the check-in cues, to which lots of people have access without going through any security, and are all crowded together. No need even for suicide. Inifinitely more efficient.

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Back to school soon, last year ever, exams and stuff... Can't wait! Bring it on, want to see all my friends again. Oh and I moved house. A lot closer to town now so a lot more freedom.

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