Boredy O'Bored here.

I am so sad. I am literally just sitting here, bored out of my skull, waiting for The Sims 2. A computer game. Man alive, I'm just so insane. I'm actually tired so might get to bed at a decent hour, but why am I so hopped up about a silly computer game?

Knowing my luck, it probably won't work on my computer. I spent most of yesterday culling stuff off my computer to maximise disc space or whatever it's called. Got rid of some stories I started years ago and haven't got past the first few pages... can't quite get myself to delete one though... a 54 page 'secret diary of...' which is the worst thing ever- a secret diary of a girl called Sarina Fields (as in Tsarina... I was studying Russia at the time) whose parents die and she moves to a little town in California *cough* Sweet Valley!clone *cough* to live with her rich auntie. Cue lots of stupid names, cheerleaders, twats with cars and so on. Cue teen pregnancy (dealt with not ever so badly), a few more down the years, blah blah blah shot by the mafia, blah blah.

The difference between this piece of steaming badger shite and the trillions of Mary-Sues in this fandom? I never canon-raped a beloved book and it's not up for the world to see. Small differences that mean the world.

I'm so fucking bored I've actually told you about Sarina. Man. Did I mention I wrote a diary of her daughter Venezia *dies* too? The things bored and frankly lonely, depressed schoolgirls write. It got to 110 pages and then the disc got corrupted. There is, it turns out, a God.

And you thought John Lennon as a Gryffindor prefect was my stupidest idea to date.

My dad bought me Ireland: The Novel today. I actually saw the author plugging it on BBC Breakfast back when I was in Sunderland and waking up at 5am. "It's fate baby, it's fate!" Anyone who can tell me what movie that song is from gets a Perkins Peanut and my respect and admiration.

Boredy O'Bored here.

I am so sad. I am literally just sitting here, bored out of my skull, waiting for The Sims 2. A computer game. Man alive, I'm just so insane. I'm actually tired so might get to bed at a decent hour, but why am I so hopped up about a silly computer game?

Knowing my luck, it probably won't work on my computer. I spent most of yesterday culling stuff off my computer to maximise disc space or whatever it's called. Got rid of some stories I started years ago and haven't got past the first few pages... can't quite get myself to delete one though... a 54 page 'secret diary of...' which is the worst thing ever- a secret diary of a girl called Sarina Fields (as in Tsarina... I was studying Russia at the time) whose parents die and she moves to a little town in California *cough* Sweet Valley!clone *cough* to live with her rich auntie. Cue lots of stupid names, cheerleaders, twats with cars and so on. Cue teen pregnancy (dealt with not ever so badly), a few more down the years, blah blah blah shot by the mafia, blah blah.

The difference between this piece of steaming badger shite and the trillions of Mary-Sues in this fandom? I never canon-raped a beloved book and it's not up for the world to see. Small differences that mean the world.

I'm so fucking bored I've actually told you about Sarina. Man. Did I mention I wrote a diary of her daughter Venezia *dies* too? The things bored and frankly lonely, depressed schoolgirls write. It got to 110 pages and then the disc got corrupted. There is, it turns out, a God.

And you thought John Lennon as a Gryffindor prefect was my stupidest idea to date.

My dad bought me Ireland: The Novel today. I actually saw the author plugging it on BBC Breakfast back when I was in Sunderland and waking up at 5am. "It's fate baby, it's fate!" Anyone who can tell me what movie that song is from gets a Perkins Peanut and my respect and admiration.