It's been a while since we last spoke. (Not that anybody reads this shit). Anyhow. The Council are still on my back about the outstanding tax due. I am being threatened with bailiffs and prison. I called them up yesterday (they didn't answer) and left a message telling them: G.F.Y. Albeit in polite idiom.
If they come round looking to steal my hard earned possessions they can jog on. I intend to elope to warmer climes.It is such a shame. The archaeology course is f- fantastic! Loads of people are 'bleating' about the amount of reading that has to be done on the fora. Pussies. Try doing Latin alongside archaeology, that will give you something to 'bleat' about.
My End of Module Assessment is coming along nicely, despite the millions and millions of lines of reading required.
This morning I had to make a choice: dog-food or human-food. I chose the former. I am okay with fasting, but could never see little Ronulus go without.I am the poorest I've ever been in my entire life, and now the Council want their thirty pieces of silver. I just don't care. I've had enough now. They could have had one of the finest academics, the greatest living lyric poet this country has ever known. Instead, I have decided to go back to France.
Since Gung Fu stole the keys to my house, seeing as he is being booted out, I thought I would leave a little parting-gift for the Council, in the form of a number of armed gypsies squatting my place. They want to play hard-ball? Fine. No problem. I'll just go back to France, and never see this country again.
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