So *that's* alright, then.

I failed desperately to arrange for Louis and I to pick up some pussy this weekend. Oh well. Next weekend.

So I worry, occasionally, that I might be Growing Up. Buying a fridge, for example - I have never bought a fridge. For ten years I've had flatmates with a fridge, or had hand-me-downs. And we grow weary of it. Want a fridge that doesn't leak, drip, smell, frost up. Want, in short, an Adult Fridge. And this is, of course, a rite of passage. No longer am I satisfied with skanky whitegoods. I am becoming a Man. So it reassures me no end, when browsing fridges online, that my immediate reaction to freezer compartmwnts is to wonder "How many bottles of vodka will that fit?"

Goodoh. Priorities still OK. Not soulless yuppie yet.

sol.
.