Hari-Kari And All That Nonsense

Ogg. Dearest Steve is begging me to blog. SHE IS PREVENTING ME FROM STUDYING. I hate you, Stove. Anyway. Ogg.

His real name is Daniel Oliver Gale Grant, but we know him lovingly as Ogg. Well, actually, he prefers to be called Oli. I'll call him that when I remember. I met Oli, hmmm, hold on, how sad is this, I can remember the date. First of September. 2004. So, um, not really all that long ago. He is friend of the Phipp, and this is how we came to talk to each other on msn. Now, when I first started talking to darling Daniel, he hated all things rap. If you don't believe me, I have the conversations to prove it. I even have the conversation where he turned to the love of rap. This amuses me greatly.

Oliver is one of the most fickle people I know. He will tell you that he loves something one day, and then the next he has COMPLETELY changed his mind. This means, in my opinion, that you can never ever know anything about Oli. One thing I do know, however, is that he is disgustingly clever, and I may employ him to sit my GCSEs for me. I also know that he is obsessed with three particular things, at the moment. These are (in no particular order): basketball, Steve and Nike. Steve and Ogg is the cutest thing I have ever seen. It makes me grin like a madman (or woman). In fact, I am grinning now.

Favourite thing about Oli. This must be the fact that, even though he tries so hard to hide it, he is a GENUINELY NICE PERSON. And, as a plus, he gives the best hugs ever. And more hugs than anyone else I know. It's all good.

Worst thing about him is that... oh yeh, his appalling music taste, too. However, he does like Scissor Sisters, so he is slightly forgiven. And yes, ok, I do like some Eminem music, but DO NOT FORCE IT ON ME. Thanks.

My favourite Ogg memory is at Steve's house when us three were lying on the floor. It was incredibly surreal and strange, but it was groovy at the same time. And then in London. We are good at this lying-on-the-floor malarky. Even if the licking isn't so good. Or the placing of my phone in underwear. Do not do this, you.

So my knowing of Oli maybe a small time, but he is definitely a groovemeister. However, I WANT MY POSTCARD. I shall wait with eager eyes.