Terms And Conditions.

Phew! That song I did last night is still genius! That was close. Still. I am irked a little. You would not believe how difficult it is for a boy like me to get a portable telephone. Really. I dropped mine down the bog. Problem was, it was a replacement phone, for the one that got whisky in it. So I can't take it back. The sim card from it works, but that won't fit in my Blackberry, which only works in America, and despite numerous attempts and promises this week, can't be chipped. I nearly got a contract phone - after an initial "fuck you" after the credit check, they agreed to let me have it if I gave them a £100 deposit, in addition to the £80 connection etc. fee. Despite being minus pounds scary brok right now, I figured it best, only to be denied as I don't have any utility bills, a drivers licence, or a bank account registered to the house I actually live in. I give up. I you want to talk to me, you can email me. Saying that, my inbox looks like an Iraqi graveyard. I have a landline! Can't suss how to get an ansafone on it though.

Oh well.

Hey, we're playing tonight, me and my band that is. Details here. It's in Easty London and it's free. Holla at your boy. I have no idea what to wear.