I don't know what to post about really. Which is fairly unusual in itself, because normally people pay to have me shut up. But I've not got sufficient access to my music, as I've been moving house and there's junk everywhere. As it stands, I'm going to have to get things off my hard drive onto my USB pen, take it to work and blog it on *cough* my lunch break. Effort.
But really, the place is a tip; you should see my bed. Really, I can't. But these things have to be done, and will come to an end. I have no listening capabilities even where I am today - it's like I'm being mocked by a higher power. Maybe Charles Clarke, he needs a vent.
I can't even seem to get in the wistful mood which provides most of my moments of prosaic delight. I'm listening to a friend's friend's band on myspace, and it's not helping because it's not all that good. But, they're supporting the one and only Rolan Bolan tomorrow, and I need to prep myself to know why I'm not going. Actually, I don't, but as mentioned my currently purposeless life begs activity. I think I may have to fill the gaping hole with chocolate.
Or maybe I'll turn this into some sort of adolescent emo blog where I anonymously discuss my deepest, darkest secrets and feelings. Or maybe I won't, given the amount of people who I know that know about this page, really decrying the expression "anonymous".
Maybe I'll just stop now and tell you these things:
- Epitonic has changed (more than the odd six-monthly update), and looks rubbish.
- The BBC website hates me but apparently will soon have an archived Adem session.
- Wood Green is sunny