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Siglodion ara bap!

5 Great Things To Come Out Of Wales:
1) Cerys Matthews (it's all her fault I'm bisexual)
2) Lostprophets
3) The Manics
4) The accent
5) Danny

5 Best Episodes Of South Park I Have Seen So Far:
1) Scott Tenorman Must Die (because it has Radiohead in it)
2) Mr Hanky The Christmas Poo (at which point Matthew will say "There is nothing funny about a talking shit!")
3) Sexual Harassment Panda
4) Cartman Gets An Anal Probe
5) The one with Big Gay Al and Sparky the gay dog

5 Best Disney Songs:
1) Whistle Stop (from Robin Hood)
2) The Phoney King Of England (from Robin Hood)
3) Hakuna Matata (from The Lion King)
4) Everybody Wants To Be A Cat (from The Aristocats)
5) Bear Necessities (from The Jungle Book)

5 Favourite People From Hole (not including Gina or Chloe, as they never post):
1) Paul (drunkenllama)
2) Edie (applebed)
3) Suzanne (SoozyWoozy)
4) Lizzy (obscure *Lizzy* Babyblooo)
5) Hayley (Columbia - I haven't met her as she lives on the other side of the world, but she's sweet)

The Hole meet-up was boss. As well as three of the aforementioned people, there was Emily (aka Siouxsie), Ros (aka Evil Dildo), Neil (aka Midge) and Tre (I refuse to call him Gareth, it's a ghey name). Lizzy was quieter than I thought she'd be. I'm sure I've met her before, she reminds me of someone I know and she has huge tits. Ros is gorgeous, proof that beautiful does not always equal skinny, and Emily was really cute and I had to resist patting her on the head (I knew who she was because she had a copy of Tatler and she looked like a Tory). Sooz didn't stay that long, unfortunately, but then she did sneek out of her house to see us, so kudos to her. Anyway Ros got some pics out of it and I probably look like an utter tard, but then I'm not the most photogenic of people. We had some nutters from Stoke trying to chat Emily up and scaring her. They thought we were boring because we wouldn't mosh, even though we were in a sodding pub, and that they were hard because they'd spent £200 on booze and they were like these massive stoners, yeah, and they like come from Stoke and like no-one in Manchester is friendly towards them and like they're so alternative, man. Paul called one of them a knob and he didn't seem to care. I thought they were going to follow us around all day, but eventually they buggered off, thank god. Meanwhile, I was getting hammered on cocktails. I had a Fuzzy Navel (with Archers and orange juice and other stuff), Purple Haze (lemonade, Curacao and something extremely alcoholic) and another one. God knows how I managed to find my way to the Ready Meals bit in Sainsburys. I never did meet up with Ros in Jilly's, alas. I did, however, meet up with Danny, which was cool apart from the fact that he was ill. He's asthmatic and he had a small attack after we'd had sex. So that buggered up his evil fire escape-related plan. We didn't stay for long - just when they started playing the novelty songs, Danny felt ill so we had to go home. Bugger. Still, you've been to one Thursday in Jilly's, you've been to them all, and it's not the same without the HARM crowd there.
I thought Danny would want me to go but he seemed quite happy for me to come back to Holly with him (in Oak House, the five buildings are named after trees - Chestnut, where I live, Sycamore, Holly, Maple, where Clare lives, and Beech), so we watched cartoons and then Danny stripped off and got into bed, which I thought was a hint for me to leave, but surprisingly he didn't want me to go, in fact quite the opposite, so I ended up sleeping with him (literally, when I say "sleep with" I mean I sleep in the bed with them). God, I feel like a cocktrolley. The past two times I've seen Danny, he talked about crashing over. I thought he'd be cagey about me sleeping with him, because you-know-who was, he thought it was too intimate, but Danny said he liked having another person in the bed. And I like sleeping in a bed with someone, apart from when they hog the duvet, or, in Danny's case, I end up with half of my arse stuck in the hole between the bed and the wall (I ended up there because Danny needed to be able to get to his meds in case he had another attack). It's rotten being autistic, so it is. I can rarely tell what Danny's thinking.
It was a bit of a downer the next day, we had sex but then things went horribly wrong. Danny got really short of breath and had to take his inhaler, and I got really worried because I felt guilty for triggering his astham attack. He wasn'yt pissed off, thank god. The guy is tolerant, to be sure. I eventually managed to drag myself from chez Danny at 3 in the afternoon after watching more Simpsons. I'm now back in Chester. Whoop de woo.
My little brother is now a man - Jack turned 18 today. He's in Farndon, presumably drunk. He went to Rosies with the girls last night, but none of them had any money so it was rather shitey. Still, he seemed pretty please with his DVDs and the Sleater-Kinney album I got him. Amongst other things (which she'd put in a box with dogs on it, how typical), Mum gave him a tin of Hoops and Hotdogs. Classy or what?