I should feel guilty. But I'm one of only two people who think so. Everyone else reckons I had every right.
In such a strange mood. Want to sleep but can't. Well, haven't tried. I would really adore a lengthy phone conversation with someone utterly random. I say 'random' but I don't mean 'random' at all.
I am happy.
But I never have anything to write about when I'm happy.
However, just so you know,
I fair got into O'Keeffe's last night.
Managed to get poluted on about a tenner, thanks to generous donations from Róisín and Joanne.
Got a tiny bit sick into a bowl @ Róisín's house. I blame the mayonnaise.
I was Twittering far too fucking much last night. What's my beef?
I also can't spell.
Ta fuck, ta fuck! Ta fuck, ta fuck!
Here for a short time, not a long time.
We're all friends here.
Apparently, I'm the ugly one. Fucking paedo.
I really can't spell. All these words look like they're spelled wrong but I actually can't tell for sure.
It means plenty to me.
Butterflies. How bizarre.
That naked man... LOLZ.
Secretly putting kinks in Katie's hair. This makes me psycho, apparently.
'Smidge'? Honestly, like. Slutting it up, Clonmel style.
Someone suggest some empowering break-up songs?