I've got style miles and miles so much style that it's wasting

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. Fuck me. I am the most exhausted I have ever been well ever.

Bloody art exam. I'm not happy with my piece that I just spent eight long laborious hours, and I doubt I ever will be, it sucks. The yellow is wrong. One of the wing cut outs is fucked. AND I HATE IT SO MUCH.

But anyway - I'm exhausted and really should've slept earlier last night, but I wanted to watch Jools so I could get a feel for the LCD Soundsystem live show - I'm going to have so much fun at Reading, so apparently I'm going to be bum raped every five seconds by the douche that's standing riiiight behind me - so what? So the main stage isn't greeeeat this year - at least the NME stage makes up for it.
Sigh - I wish i could write more, and I wish I could play more instruments - then maybe I could help lift this music business of the ground, unfortunately...

I suck.

But you know - Vidler, the musical genius he is, needs only the lightest of prods to really get going, so at least I can rely on that for now. My voice has gone croaky, NO I haven't caught her cough and NO I'm not going to, I've just been really tired so I can't sing for shit. I should write more, I'm beginning to enjoy myself here.

But at least I can still sing more than she can.

Maybe going to Fiffle's on the 29th is a major bad idea - but who would I be if I didn't get fucked every couple of hours? Oh my sheep are going to be so awesome.