Ahhh.... tired. Who has had the most tiring weekend? Uh, me, I think you'll find. Do you care? No, but I'm gonna tell you about it anyway. You chose to read this. Hahaha. Anyway. So, last night was full of fireworks. Firstly, we went to the Steve's house. Where we ran around shouting things. A lot. Ha. Then we raced to the station, and buttoned ourselves to each other. Oo er. We were like a big sphere of mad eggs. But, like, not eggs, 'cause that's a bit weird. Shut up, brain. On the train, we planned this AMAZING greeting for el Spasticos, but, alas, Kris forgot her part and pissed it all up: "errrrrr..... hold the..... phone? It's uh.... WestLIFE?" WELL DONE, KRIS. Sigh. Tosser. Anywazzoks, we went to Wokingland, and bought our billets. And mad glow sticks. I love glow sticks. And then there was fireworks. Yeh, that bit was shit. I don't like fireworks. Depressing sods. Then Kris, Gee, Abi, Emma and Roxy decided to desert Steve and myself. Leaving us alone with el Spasticos. ALONE. A-L-O-N-E. Thanks, guys. But it all backfired on THEM. We had fun avec le Spastiques, and that lot were all depressed and listening to Puppy Love (no, I don't know what that means either). So, uh, there.
Bertie (brother of Phippman) soon called. In doing this, he created havoc. Hahaha. Go Bertie. Hahaha. Is that mean? I don't care.
So, Steve finally met Ogg. In my ultra cool personal opinion, I think they should get married. A bit. I'm grinning now, a lot.
And now, I am at home. Sitting. Doing, uh, nothing. I have so much work to do, and so little time to do it in. Go me. No, really. Hahaha, I am getting delirious. Oh well, see you on the other side...
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