So, yeah, I've decided to get out of bed and, you know, do things. My friends miss me and my mum's most likely sick of seeing my dirty litso around the house but I ca'n't say that being in bed for two weeks didn't teach me new things about myself. For example, Rhys Ifans (that guy from Notting Hill or Vladias Grutas from Hannibal Rising) is a very attractive man, and I wouldn't have known that if I didn't watch almost every movie he's ever been in. Also, I've discovered that in 2001: A Space Oddessey it makes me feel very uneasy when Dave is going to shut down HAL and he's like "Stop, Dave. I'm afraid" and he starts sining that "Daisy" song. I mean, I understand he was just a computer and a messed up one at that but still, if something fears death doesn't that make it human in a sense? I don't know. And, last on the subject of movies, if you haven't seen it yet, and you like that sort of thing, you should watch Hedwig and the Angry Inch. It's positively grand (plus, it features Michael Pitt jacking it in the bath).

Now, that being said, I have a bit of something to bitch about: Michael Jackson, 'kay, I was a somewhat fan of yours, I didn't think you molested anybody (most likely becuase I was like 10 years old when that went down and didn't know what molestation was), but fucking HELL, does every goddam music channel have to play every one of his videos on a damn loop until four in the goddam morning? I mean, his music's fine and well, no denying he was talented, but did they really give two shits to play those videos when the guy was alive? He made me miss my damn night programs. I was stuck with nothing but Rock of Love Bus and Gordon Ramsay this and that. It sort of made me wish that a musician whom I like very much would have died instead so I could atleast enjoy it. Look out David Bowie, Sidney's a-coming for you.