Getcher bacon shakin'!
I went paintballing last Saturday, which is an exciting way to combine violence and redecoration. I didn't really know what to expect, but what landed in my lap was an afternoon of thrills.

Here are two things to remember, if you are ever lucky enough to go:

1. You are not Rambo, no matter how much you may like to think that you are Rambo. [This, of course, does not apply if you actually are Rambo. Also: sorry, Rambo.]

2. Try to avoid being shot in the throat. I mean, obviously, try to avoid being shot at all, but if you have to get shot, the throat is not the way to go. Trust me on this.


I'm now back up in Manchester, savourin' the lights and sniffin' the dreams. It was my friend Charlie's birthday the other day, so we went for what can only be described as an extravaganza. First of all, cocktails at the Hilton hotel."Ooh la la" you are saying - but wait, there's more! Giddy on posh booze, we then hustled ourselves down to an Italian restaurant for a meal. "What are you, rich? Giz some money, rich-face!" you are screaming now, with your veins throbbing in your face like hosepipes. You are wrong to squeal this, though, since the cocktails and meal were paid for by her parents. It is alright for some, I know. I am slotting myself into that category like Lego.

Then we went clubbing but I was far too full of rich Italian food, so had to leave a bit early like a sissy child-man. Feel free to claw at me with abuse!

I am at a crossroads, in which I either apply for editing jobs or marketing jobs. Poor and honest or rich and soulless? I mean, rich and soulless, obviously, but I'm still not sure it's quite right for me.

Hit me with advice! Make it creamy!