Dry

I have run out of green tea. I was only introduced to this wondrous substance a while back and I want more. I'm sitting here with a cup of Earl Grey but it just doesen't feel the same. Please, reader, mourn my fragrant and healthy-tasting loss.

On the right side of the tracks, I have finally decided that "Independent study", the concept of doing homework without being asked - so trumpeted by the Aquinas elite (teachers, admittidly not quite the intellectual bourgeousie they aspire to be yet) at the start of the college year - might be a bit useful. And of course, now the exams are over and I've three weeks of college left, now is the time to start!

So I have made about 15 lines-worth of extra notes from my lessons today, and I'm proud of myself for that herculean effort. I even highlighted a word; it helps to go the extra mile. And while i'm still doubtful that this monumental step towards becoming the next Darwin or Dickens has entirely secured my academical future, it's a start. I'm really just waiting around for Have I Got News For You (henceforth HIGNFY); I'm not actually this focused on learning. Even so, don't pretend you weren't fooled by my elaborate charade.

Getting an iPod has made me once more realise once more the decrepid state of my iTunes Library; there's loads of albums spelt wrong or split up because of damned capital letters. They're like the master criminals of the lexigraphical world, the McCavity-cats of glyphs, the Moriarty of fontcrime (which I assume is like Orwell's thoughtcrime only it is restricted to keyboards). Hopefully the dashing and heroic officers of Scotland Yard's celebrated Flying Squad will put their finely tuned detective minds to taming my errant Caps Lock. Or maybe I could learn to type; time will tell who is more effective.

But anyway. The thunderstorms before were lively! Gosh they were nice. I love summers like this and if this is what climate change is going to bring us then I better get polluting. I mean, sure, it's a very good idea to "save the world" and all that jazz, but, with the gift of global warming, a British Summer actually is a British SUMMER. Y'know, with sun and stuff? Not just with wasps and chavs bereft of clothing.

Well that's enough uninformed writing for one night. I shall bit you adieu and farewell.