Sinister: Mekon took a trip, across the sea, to find me Boy G, the queen of MCs...

[Greg Pallis]

Right now, the thing that matters to me most, much more than B&S, much more
than Hysteric Glamour, more even than Baxendale or This Week's Crush or Sega
or whatever, is tennis. This is true. I'd forgotten how much I love it...
it's a hybrid of chess and boxing, and I really do think it's beautiful.
Really.

Cheese? Ribena? Give me jam, jam and red bull. Or maybe peanut butter and
apple juice. Whatever.

I write this easyEverything in Trafalgar square, which really /is/ rather an
impressive place. It's, like, huge in a way that really strikes you... I'm
in Westminster Abbey most days and that's never once stuck me as being big,
it's a design thing of some sort. Plus, there's this cool little display
telling you how much time you have left, way dinky. Spaced series two,
episode three, was a half-hour moment of pure telvisual magic, I'm thinking.
Can you even have half-hour moments? Oh well. Aaaaanyway, I'm here 'cos I
just had a job interview nearby. Not a very interesting story all round,
but, y'know, whatever. My mum always taught me to always peel oranges using
this bizzarely complex knife method. I don't understand why. This morning
she tried to kick the bathroom door in because she thought I was taking too
long brushing my teeth.

22 minutes left. That's £0.74, apparently.

Some sinis like the Magnetic Fields. This:
http://www.roadwaffles.com/oily/d/20010101.html isn't even remotely
connected to them in any way. But it's a bit like the the Bad Art Collection
by Jhonen Vasquez. Who is better than Stevie Meritt at hockey. Maybe.

I was in #sini the other way. Minka said the secret of romantic success is,
among other things, to be "yourself". I have not been myself, at all, for
even a moment since age, oh, fourteen. Should I be worried? I'm not overly
concerned either way, I wouldn't want to go back to being me even if it did
lead to gettin' squidgy.

Yesterday:
 Girl who is a vague acquaintance: Hey Greg. My friend really fancies you,
by the way....
 Me: Ah, right, cool... who?
 G.w.i.a.v.a: Ah, she said not to tell.
 Me: Um, what's the point of that then?
 Gwaiava: Errr... dunno.
 Me: Right, then.

I mean, really. It's just silly.

I was wrong, and Supreme by Robbie is actually a better song than Teenage
Dirtbag. Only just, but nevertheless, Robbie returns to the podium, and
Wheatus are relegated to merely Second Best Single of The Noughties. I used
to think that if I shouted as loudly as I could, I would keep getting louder
forever, until buildings fell down. I never did, because I was scared. I
believed this until years later, when I did, only to find puberty had robbed
me of my superhuman shouting ability. I can still shout underwater so loud
it can be heard across a swimming pool, though. That's apparently quite
rare.

2 minutes left. Ummm...

Yes.

Right.

Gorillaz, man! Blinding, blinding record.

Something.

Yes.

Goodnight.
-----
Greg

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