My dearest Kristina and I are sitting in the I.T. room. Doing nothing, as per usual. Well, not nothing, obviously, otehrwise we would be dead. Actually, that would involve being dead, which, I guess, is doing something. We are listening to 'True Colours', but Kris just jogged it. Fool. Fati has just crawled all the way from the other side of the room, under the table, just to visit us, and to look at what I'm doing. Nosy fridge. She says she has one too. No fridge here thanky couscous. That was Fati. I just got an electric shock in my ear, damn you, Kristina. It bloody hurt. Arghy.
Kris is singing at me now. It is not pretty. She also laughs like a frog. I love blogging. She does not have a blog. Although she should. Definitely. Though, that would be very strange. She does not like writing, I think. And so, therefore, it would be pointless. Like a circle.
Last note of all: COME TO "BE MY BABY", ON THE 2ND AND 3RD OF DECEMBER, TICKETS ARE £2. BE THERE TO SUPPORT YOUR GROOVY FRIENDS. OR ELSE.
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