Why is it that just because someone has been randomly placed in the room next to or opposite you in a flat that stinks of stale smoke, they automatically class as your 'mate'.
None of my chosen 'mates' which I have, over a period of many years, gradually built up a 'mateship' with, smoosh chips into the carpet and leave it there, bang on my door pointlessly at ridiculous hours of the morning, eat my only food, snap the strings on my guitar and piss me off to the point of explosion.
If you can't already tell... it's late, I can't sleep because of the noise my 'flatmates' are making, I have uni 9am-6pm tomorrow and I'm CRANKY.
Give me some Mighty Boosh and a herbal tea and I shall try and calm down.
From now on, I'm going to actually do a blog like I should.