So after all the watching of The Walking Dead Let’s Plays I’ve done, I caved and started the game myself. I CANNOT DEAL WITH MAKING SUCH AWFUL DECISIONS. It’s difficult enough for me to choose what sort of sandwich I’m going to have with lunch, let alone deciding which characters deserve to live and die.
It’s a week until I head back to Cheltenham, and I’m already starting to stress out about all the stuff I’ve got to do in this, my last year.
I get a lot of spam comments on my blog.
I’d probably say that for every 10 views, I get two bizarre ramblings from unsolicited spambots.
I rarely read them, and they get consigned to the bin within seconds.
Two days ago, I saw a boy no older than thirteen snatch a wasp out of the air, throw it on the ground (oh hey there Lonely Island) and tread it to death.
I admit that it’s not the nicest way to start today’s post, but it got me thinking about the last time I got stung by a bee.
NO MORE HAIKUS.
Budget bus Gosling
You were the only good thing
Twelve days left at home,
Inspiration running low,
Cop out of a post.
With one more weekend left in Plymouth, I’m obviously making the most of being by the coast.
I’m obviously spending my time catching up on TV before I go back and get sidetracked by actual Uni work.
I’ve finally found the perfect way of dealing with Post Fringe upset.
It’s not wallowing in bed watching crappy television whilst everyone on Twitter seems to be having much more fun than you.
It’s actually getting out of the house and doing something.
I’m still on the bloody train. It feels like I’ve been on here for all of time and we’re only in Bristol.