How many of us remember the youngest years of our lives? I have some vague memories of being a baby sitting on parquet flooring in my parent's home, banging the floor with my hands and then being picked up. Is it a real memory that hasn't been invaded by more recent memories, or is it just a fiction cooked up by my, likely unstable, wetware? Who knows.
Showing posts from 2014
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Since starting uni, everything from my sanity to my social life has taken something of a battering, so with a new semester just starting I figured I would take up my friend, Mr F, on the offer of a night out. The original intention was to head into London, but with the weather on the brink of turning the capital into one giant paddling pool, we decided to head to a pub in Harrow for a bite to eat. Okay, technically still London but sufficiently far from the Thames as to downgrade the wetness status to verruca pool.