If the guilt doesn’t kill you, she will

Deviate to contemplate
This audio visual opiate
One hundred years from now
Title fights and human rights
We’re satellites - you’re parasite

Best musical compliment? Whether it was meant sarcastically or not, I care not. The infinite lyric machine. Speaking of lyrics, you may know, or if you did you will soon, but I did not, that the ones used here are have more-than-tangential relations to Murray Head, who is also more-than-tangentially related to thon dude from Buffy, probably better known to me as thon dude from the crippilingly unfunny ‘Little Britain’. As I was never a Buffy fan. The flick, fer shure, the series, nah

A pocket full of posies and cheap scented roses
Every house should have it’s hat on
So in and out and round and round,
Up and down and lost and found

I announced to The Group that I am leaving today. A few shocked reactions, and one very nice comment. Paraphrasing the office will be that little bit less fun without me. *sniff*

The next stage of my life starts soon. How will it go? I don’t know. How will it affect my weblogging? I don’t know. I haven’t done a really, really obscure story post in a while, in fact since I came to Cambridge. Perhaps that will change. Perhaps it won’t. I think when this here page gets a change of clothing (nudge) I will return to extended obtuse posts. But then again, maybe I won’t. You don’t care, I don’t care, let’s all not care together.