birthday bloggery

*slimy fiend creeps into the tree-flecked moonlight and begins soliloquy*

"hates them, nasty filthy hobbitses, it's our birthday... not a single parcel or magic ring in sight, not a cake or flicker of a candle *gollum*..

20 years old, yes precious, working at Sainsbury's on our birthday, *gollum* *hiss*"

I'm now 20

the end.

(bloody hell)

When in Rome...

I've been at uni for about a month now and throughout the repetitive tedium of Fresher's week, the various offers from Wetherspoons and the multitude of nightclubs plying me with cheap drinks, one fact has surfaced: I'm addicted to cheese.
It's funny how you take people out of their comfort zones to discover facets of their personality that no one ever knew and this is mine: I'm addicted to cheese; cheap and cheerful cheese. cheese on toast. grilled cheese. melted cheese. cheese fondu. cheese.

That's not to say that I eat like a total bloody student of course: I made a spaghetti bolognese without poisoning anyone earlier this evening, and I'm quite partial to Pancetta. Pesto will always have a place in my larder, and so will the great British egg.


But I've seen the future, and the future is cheese.