In other Australia-related news, yesterday was Australia Day, which myself and friends celebrated with vigour, acquired three rather large straw hats emblazoned with the Foster's logo and managed to sink a fishbowl of vodka Red Bull beverage. Aussie music was being played in the pub and requests were being taken. When I made mine the DJ (a scruffy man in his forties) asked for a kiss on the cheek and being the friendly person I am, obliged. Only he twisted his face at the last moment and quite forcefully kissed my mouth. Lovely. I went back to the table and asked 'Tori, when you made your request did he make you kiss him?' As soon as Tori said 'Nooo...' I felt inexplicably dirty. Kissing sleazy old men is now off my to-do list. Shudder.

Eventually went to sleep after twitching until about 4.00 am as a side effect of the Red Bull. And today has been spent trying to make contact with the boy who lives in the house whose garden backs onto ours. Tori swore she saw him in a Watford FC shirt so we have stuck up a piece of paper on my window asking if said town is where he's from. So far he is not cooperating, which is a bit disappointing.

I have a library book due back today but I just cannot be arsed to go into uni. 40p fine it is then!

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