And now for something completely different...

Well, not really. It's going to be more of the same old complaining drivel as usual. In these times of economic downturn and war, change is something people really don't want to see, so I'm not going to upset anyone.

Who would've thought that accents could make such a big difference to a girl being attractive? When I was in Alton Towers, there were plenty of lookers, but then they'd open their mouths and from them would come words so garbled by their strange dialect it made one want to fall to the ground screaming, clutching at one's ears. So, obviously, the Midlands dialect doesn't sit well with me. Maybe they think that my accent is terrible, and they'd like nothing better than to punch me in my southern mouth.

Of course, that is ridiculous, as I have a sublime voice.

Despite that, they would probably not hesitate in attacking anyway.

There's nothing worse than realising that you have more in common with old(er) people than you do with your contemporaries. When I returned my book that I got with the tokens I won for the History prize, Humphrey Lyttleton's autobiography, I ended up having a fairly long chat with Mrs. Adams about the man, not only for his radio work but for his work as a jazz trumpeter, which then led to us talking about the British jazz scene in the 1950's. The worst thing about it is, I actually ENJOYED talking about it! Oh DEAR.

On the plus side, I am now completely prepared to endure a zombie uprising. Everyone to my house and we'll slaughter the fuckers!

It always works in the films.

On the plus side, I managed to shut everyone up about my valve trombone. They all thought it was uncool, but then they saw me playing and thought twice. Yes, I am just that cool.

Don't deny it.