I ate too many Maltesers tonight, so I'm a bit wound up right now.

What better way to spend the time then, but to sing Billy Joel and clip my fingernails.

Fractionally too big, the clipper actually managed to crack the nail on my pinky finger. Thus, screams of pain ensue, and now I need a manicurist.

"She's got a way about her.
I don't know what it is,
but I know that I can't live without her,
anyway."

On another topic, the birds stopped coming altogether. My flatmate said that he was considering feeding them baking soda, thus creating walking bird bombs. I wonder if he actually did it...

I'm babbling now. It must be the pain.

Pity me.