I got run over today by this crazy kid. He was like four years old and biked right round the corner like a bat out of hell straight into my shin. Sweet lord I squealed like a piglet being chased around a pig shack knowing he was gonna be sunday lunch. Seriously hurt like anything. Just my luck hey, my shin is flippin' throbbin like anything. I think it's bent too. I've got a dinted bent shin now. Goddamn great.



But I did have this really bloody delishy banana and chocoloto sauce for puds this afternoon which eased the pain just a smidgin. And after an evening of walking around a flee market with a hot choc to warm my cockles, a quick watch of Blades of Glory (where I was soooo close to peeing my pants thanks to Will Ferrel's antics) and eating half a jar of pesto, and now I'm reminiscing all my most precious moments that I've spent doing foolish things on this ol' planet. AND now I'm craving a batty chatty. Core it sucks moving to a new country at the beginning and having a limited number of friends. Time really should get its skates on and speed up this friendship making before I decided to live under a rock and be an unsocial git. Alrighty enough ranting. I'm off for one of those 8 hour snoozes. Anyone else out there - sleep tight and don't let those guitar strings strangle you in you sleep. I'm being serious. Some crazy cat told me a horror story last night about how those evil looking porcelin dolls come alive and scratch you to death in your sleep and me being the mongoose that I am started imagining my guitar coming to life and strangling me with its strings.



I couldn't sleep so I put outside my door. There was no way ho zay that I'd be able to sleep after thinking about killer guitars. I need a bodyguard to keep watch over me when I go for sleepies. It's bloody crazy I tell ya, my imagination really does get the better of me. Ok really off now.