brosurs back, tell a friend

   I've come to actually hate writing "blogs" because i automatically sound like a pretentious dick head. So i've had a nice long break to try and control my urge to write like a cock, but now i'm back. Also i've been in a negative mood since moving down to brighton, and now i'm back to being positive, angst is so not in right now.  

   Other than writing blogs there is another thing i'm shit at: being a student. I've managed to spend almost my entire monthly "allowance" in two weeks, which means i will be scraping the crumbs off the carpet for the remainder of the month. And its not that i've been shopping for super rad things, but that i've almost literally eaten my money. That fucking american diner with its oreo milkshakes, vegi burgers, and tom & jerry re-runs, how is a yankee doodle to resist? Jimmy and i have become local yokels, its a sad truth i know.

   I'm going to blame this on my "house mates," who just pile up the sink with dirty dishes that they don't plan on washing for at least 3 days. So my bedroom sink is now being used to wash my dirty dishes. So of course that makes me not want to cook/go into the kitchen at all, so the diner is my only option for survival. Der.  AND not only does this force me to go to the diner, but also forces me to restrain my self from rampaging when i find my bowels/glasses/cutlery filled with shit and left on the counter, bastards. Don't use my shit, or if you do wash it up and pretend like you haven't used it, derrrrrrrrr, standard. Also, for some reason they think its a good idea to pour noodles and other food items into the sink and leave them there to rot. Sad thing is there is not a single male in my kitchen, just sexy females, so i can't even blame it on gross boys. K bitch fest over, promise. 

I hate reading.