Well it looks like Paul's managed to escape the Death Year and make it to 28. Congratulations Nattrass, you win again. I think the plan is to have a party at his on Saturday, where I will drink the bottle of vodka I bought back before I discovered I was about to become cripplingly poor again. Woot! That's if Paul isn't still ill from eating a duck's egg today that apparently poisoned him. The last time I went to a party in that house it was before Paul moved in, five minutes after walking in I managed to slip over in the garden and land on my arse in a flowerbed, in front of pretty much everyone there. It's no wonder I am often considered "the coolest".

Veronica Mars ended this week, I really enjoyed the final episode (and the series over all), I'm chuffed it's getting a second series. Though the finale was probably helped to look even better than it was due to us seeing the final ever episode of Enterprise beforehand, which was fucking awful. I think if I'd been one of the cast and got that final script, I probably would have cried when I read it. Then burnt it.

Life rolls on. Obviously (if you know me, which I assume people reading this do) last week was the scene of much drama that I won't really go into here, seeing as the people involved still aren't comfortable talking about it. It'd feel a bit weird commenting on it for them. It's a great shame but I guess the thing to do is get on with creating your future rather than dwelling on the past. Or something else suitably fortune cookie-ish.

The gig last Friday was very good, one of the Superkings' best I think, and Jeff Lewis was ace. I drank too much booze though (as per usual) and spent most of Saturday lying in bed shivering and coughing, like someone in a 1930s sanitorium.