Digital Diatribe

As I lay on my back, and look up at the stars
My eye catches venus and moves on towards mars
And I see by the light of the bright starry night
A galaxy named after chocolatey bars

But my teeth aren’t as sweet
As that sugary treat
Oh how I long to suck
On that chocolate teet

Yet I don’t, and I can’t
As I know that I shan’t
have much of a mouth
into which to decant
A sweet sultry brew
of cocoamass goo
with a dashing of milk
heated all the way through

For if I lost my teeth
I shall spare the details…
My bare gums underneath?
I would run off the rails!
For how would I bite
into my one delight
with everything that it entails?

The answer to me
is quite simple you see
I must simply remove all the teeth in my head
and replace them with gold
So that when I am old
I’ll be chewing on chocolate until I am dead

I’m looking at a house tomorrow. If nothing else, it lets my dad know that I’m not happy with the current situation, even if I can’t afford to move out.

This is the place I’m looking at.
It has Smeg appliances, so I really want to get it, but they want $400 a week, which is more than Tim and I can afford. I’ll have a look to see if we can squeeze another person in somewhere to lower the rent. Otherwise it’s renting a warehouse and building a geek commune.

Uni goes back on Monday, and I still don’t know what my timetable is. Also, my room is a fucking mess now that I don’t have anyone to impress with a clean room. It’s probably the worst it’s ever been. This is what happens when you throw all your shit on the floor looking for stuff to take to a LAN.

Oh, and I cut myself again. I think this paying out that perl chick has turned into a curse, I can’t go a week without slicing my fingers to bits. This time it was on metal shelving. A nice gash across the join on all my fingers, and somehow across the top of the 4th finger on my right hand. It stings like hell.

Anyway, back to playing GTA SA. I might clean my room tomorrow. Maybe…