Monday, 8 February 2010

Ursch to Adulthood!

It is a rotten, rotten drag being an adult (or does grown-ups sound more juvenile?)!
What is the general age at which we are considered adults? 18, I suppose, when we are legal. Or perhaps 21, the age at which you can drink in the US. What is it in the UK, I am thinking its 18. There are certain clubs that only allow above-23-years-of-age entry; is this the cut-off?
Anyway, I do not enjoy it! I am young and will feel as such till I hit the next 0 numeral, but the looming end of my masters matriculation tells me that this is only fool's hope. I am as yet a student and have so been for the past 23 years, well fine 18 - and the fantasies of being able to buy this Kiehl's cream or that Appletree Boutique lace A-shaped floopsy dress post-graduation do act as Savalon on the itchy excema that is the lack there-of, of using 'ach I am a beggar/student 'excuse the lateness of this and that bill/ I can only afford that 35p Koka Prawn Flavour noodles.' Those days will be goneeeeee! And I can no longer use the cutesy - 'goi goi I am a student' plaster.
Fie BILLS, fie OFFICE JOBS (puke-oramaaa), fie moneyyyyyy.

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Sunday, 7 February 2010

Pomegranate Galore


Welcome!

What to write? I shall go for something floopsy and seemingly uninteresting. Here, here is a picture of my plate of pomegranate seeds, mmm divine perfection! - and there is something so therapeutic and detail-edly satisfaction-inducing about poking the seeds out. Apparently good for the liver and arthritis! Nibble nibble. Ew there are two seed-ies that have seen their best days, mid-right.