16/08/06
When I was nine I wrote a poem / story (ie a Dr Zeuss-esque rhyming tale) called 'Big is best' - about a small dog called Harry McLarry, who wanted to be big.
I like poems. I like stories. I don't, however, like the boy on the computer next to me, who I think just did a fart. In fact he definitely just did a fart; I'm just trying to pass it off in my head as a possibility rather than a fact, so I'm not quite so appalled by it. He has a Pleasance necklace on (not really a necklace - one of those shoelace things with the ID passes on - you know what I mean). Is this the sort of person the Pleasance employs - someone who farts whilst surrepticiously checking porn forums (my supposition)?
So - today it was back to the show - which is not at all like Back to the Future - although if I were in Johnny Sweet and Joe Thomas's show 'The Future', I would be able to say 'So - back to the Future'. In fact; I imagine that's why they called it that - so they could entertain themselves by saying that over and over and over.
My dress is small. It was designed for someone smaller than me, but I don't give a damn! I wear it anyway.
It's 8.30 now. That's nice. Soon it will be nine o'clock; and I will be able to write rude words like 'bum' and 'crap' without being told off by the watershed people.
Why is it called a Watershed? It's nothing to do with water or a shed, as far as I can see.
Answers on a postcard.
Right, time for 'mas cafe' (Spanish for 'Mass in a cafe').
Bye now.
Bye bye.
Bye.
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Harry McLarry -
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