Monday, April 09, 2007

If French is the language of love, Spanish is the language of lust.

Today I'm feeling quite chirpy really. My back is sunburnt but it doesn't hurt too much cos I've put lots of cream on it. Everyone was shocked at how red I was - I'm like, I'm IRISH, this is our natural colour! Anyway, yesterday was awesome. I love summer in London. I can still do handstands - woohoo - but after literally FOUR, I got shooting pains up my arms (hello, tendonitis!) and had to stop. My body hates me. It's basically an ill-formed, bright red CALAMITY.

Now I'm at home fooling myself that I might do some work, but instead I'm facebooking and listening to music (all of which I hate... I need new music) and trying to decide whether learning the words to "My Way" in Spanish would be a COMPLETE waste of time. I'm also getting really pissed off with the amount of flies in my room. I reckon it's cos of the skips outside, but it's so annoying. My room is not a fly sanctuary for fuck's sake. I am swatting them with a rounders bat, oooooh yeah.

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