Turkey, Mainly.

So, as it turns out, the entire Prison household may be getting ASBOs. Now, I say this. But actually, we have simply been threatened with one. I, personally, would not be too upset with the acquirement of an ASBO. In fact, I rather think that it would add some pizazz to my, frankly, quite dull CV. I wouldn't want a prison sentence, or anything as drastic as that, but an ASBO for annoying the neighbours by shutting the front door a little too loudly, as it is over 150 years old and no longer fits within the frame, I think, would be quite an achievement, really. So, I'm not going to fight this. I will allow this ASBOisation to flood over me in a wash of hilarity. My housemates agree. What's an ASBO between friends anyway? We are all pretty keen to join the chav population and become hoodies and whatnot.

Actually, would that be an ASBO each? Or a shared one? I am not too sure. Hell, I'm not even sure which I'd prefer? What does an ASBO actually entail? The nice policelady who came to visit did not exactly specify, and I did not ask, as I was more interested in how I could actually attain one of these exciting things. Perhaps we will receive certificates. I will frame mine, and stick it next to my A Levels. Hold on, I am going to find out what this ASBO thing is all about:

Anti-social behaviour orders (ASBOs) are court orders which forbid specific threatening or intimidating actions.

An ASBO can ban a person from:

• threatening, intimidating or disruptive actions
• spending time with a particular group of friends
• visiting certain areas

ASBOs are in effect for a minimum of two years, and can be longer. They are designed to protect specific victims, neighbours, or even whole communities from behaviour that has frightened or intimidated them, or damaged their quality of life.

These are civil orders - not criminal penalties – so they won’t appear on a suspect's criminal record. However, if that person breaches an ASBO, they have committed a criminal offence, which is punishable by a fine or up to five years in prison.

Well, there we have it. By shutting the front door, and giggling in the hallway, I am now - almost officially - a criminal. I feel empowered. I may shout rude things at innocent passers by. Perhaps I will kick a squirrel. MAYBE I will shoplift a pepperami from Tesco. The list is endless! At last, I am freed from the shackles of society and now, I can realise my dream of being a hardened crim. I am like totally a proper hooligan now.

Moving on from my new life as a chav, I think I should update you on the progress of my exams. I. Failed. Well, I don't know that I did, but I'm pretty certain. But I don't really want to think about it too much, so let's discuss another topic. Liiiiike...... guitars. Mel is currently trying (note: trying) to teach herself slash get Seb to teach her how to play her brand new baby pink guitar. So far, she has vaguely learnt Summer of 69, and also, the first few chords of Wild Thing. This is a delight to us all. Seb owns a nice blue electric guitar. He let me have a go on it. It was fun. And then he licked the strings, to see if he would die. Sadly, he did. No, not really. The actual outcome was much less interesting and only involved a tiny tingle (wink). Mel's guitar does not have any electricalness, which, in my opinion, makes it far less exciting. However, I have taken great joys in detuning it as a hilarious joke. Which is only funny until Mel continues to not notice its lack of tune, plays it anyway, and BREAKS MY EARS. Yes.

Jon has just gone home, and I find this rather sad, especially being that my feet are really cold, and he is an expert foot warmer. In fact, he is just warm all over, and as I am so damn freezing, I would be grateful if he would return in order that I might not be so cold any more. Thank you. Also, I would like him to do the washing up, as it is totally his turn. Apparently, it is going to snow tomorrow, and I have already had a phone call from the maman informing me that it is snowing in Weybridge, and also from the previously mentioned Jon to tell me that it is snowing in Yeovil. If it snows tomorrow, there is no chance in HELL that I am leaving this house. I do not appreciate getting chilblains on my ears as I think I may have got, from when I was walking Jon to the station. Also, being that my nice - if insanely and HORRIFICALLY painful to wear - zebra striped wellies got nicked from the porch of my tent at Reading, my little pointy toes will get cold and wet, and then I shall be greatly angered, and this is not attractive. In any way. Unless you have an anger fetish, and then it is very attractive. But you would probably be a weirdo if you have an anger fetish, so you've got no chance anyway. And plus, Jon wouldn't be very happy. Actually, it would probably make him angry, and that would just turn you on, so... it's all very cyclical you know. Gyres and swirling vortexes and whatnot. So just stop it.

I'm not sure I have much else to say. Stalling for time, really, before I start watching Gilmore Girls again. I don't know what's wrong with me; there's no explanation for this awful infatuation. What am I do, except indulge my passions? Ah well. Bon nuit etc.