In a Mirror, Darkly

I went shopping for some clothes the other day, madcap Bonkers fans. I never go shopping for clothes. My fashion sense is about as switched on as Terry Wogan's. After his eyes have been pecked out by crows. And yet still I went, still I looked, still I liked and still I purchased (but at very budget prices, due to my overdraft being so large I may have to contemplate having my limbs repossessed).

...hey, at least I didn't come out with anything that colour! But you think he looks a little silly in that, perhaps you should try to imagine something twice as bad. Got it? That's a quarter of how silly I looked when I got home and tried my new stuff on. Add more stupidness, a little more sillyness, and ten times it by ten, and you've got the end result: stuff three sizes (I think I got all that maths right...) too small. I looked in a mirror, darkly, and decided enough was enough. I was trying too hard at something I'm just not made for. Gucci, Versace, FCUK (yeah, and you)... I've given up, I took it all back, spent the money on biscuits and retreated to my House of Death (now with extra fashion shame).

I'm sticking to stuff I'm good at and know. To that end, I've written my first 400-word assignment for Middle Eastern Politics, which I was quite happy to submit, I've watched several Steven Seagal films and laughed at how "so bad it's good" his acting is (hey, I can't pick apart his fighting), I've created my own personalised desktop background featuring an image from everything I love, from 24 to Sonic the Hedgehog, then promptly changed it the next day, and ate more biscuits. All the stuff I'm good at.

Hats off, ladies and mentalmen. Amoose boosh?