Flappy Bird must die.
After what feels like an absolute age, I finally got round to seeing Frozen tonight.
There’s a point in every girl’s life where she grows to love her friends.
There’s also a point in every girl’s life where she grows tired of her friends, because they’re the type to furnish her with a ridiculous nickname.
I’ve found a sure fire way of working out if a chap is worth your time or not.
You tell him the you’re doing a radio show. He listens to said radio show and still wants to talk to you, despite an extended link about zoophilia.
Never did I think that a single textbook could make me feel like the University course I’d chosen to do was actually proper and legitimate.
How wrong I was.
With the news that we’re going to be having new people coming to look round our house any day now, I’m internally freaking out.
I’m sat in my room giggling to myself because Matt and Philip are back doing Hip Hop Sunday on Tone Radio.
I mean seriously, two of the funniest boys I know, even if it’s not always intentionally. Bad attitudes, hot bods.
This horrendous week is over.
Everyone’s coming round to ours tomorrow for a film night.
I’m going to put some food in my face and go to bed.
In terms of bad weeks, this last one has to be right up there.
I can’t remember a time where I’ve been more on edge, or more annoyed at life for just being shit, if we’re being honest.
So…this morning was weird. Nice weird, but weird all the same.