<sup>=LuxembourgSyndrome is Ross.

Ross was originally produced for the purpose of being the ultimate Bullseye champion. However, the loveable Sunday evening show based on Darts was axed, and sadly Ross has been redundant of purpose ever since. Ross secretly knows nearly everybody laughs at him. That's why he looks so sad all the time. He doesn’t like wearing shoes unless it is absolutely necessary. He travelled back in time from the future with a very bad warning about an evil plot hatched by a lonely Chinese dentist to wipe out all of mankind, but got distracted by a pint of beer and forgot to tell anyone. As a member of the i-Pod generation he is fully aware that he pays too many taxes. Yoghurt is good for you.</sup>


Mood: Oh Hell.
Listening to: Pulp "Different Class"

Sadly, I have returned from Spain. Although the holiday itself was hardly the best time of my life, there is something about the real Spain that has such an attraction for me. I never like returning to England. England is wrong, it is abusive, and I need to stop telling myself how much I hate it, I need to do something about it. I need to leave. There is nothing more painful than feeling that you are in the wrong place. Out of place. Out of context.

Any ideas?

I have a somewhat suprising tan. I'm not sure if it suits me. I'm too used to being pale. At least my freckles have come out to say hello.

I have been shopping this morning, buying very little other than moisturiser and a book. However I did almost trip over in the Bodyshop, as I was too busy inanely staring at the girl behind the counter. She had amazing green eye shadow and green lipped glasses on. She kept smiling at me, but that just makes me all the more shy. Damn me. Anyway, she was lovely.

It seems whilst I've been away that the world has decended a little further into utter madness. What the hell is going on in America? People really can't be that evil. Work together damn you, not each for themselves. And if I read in the paper's about another rape, murder, mutilation etc filmed on some scrote of a teenager's cell phone I really am going to die of complete lost hope. End of rant.

On the up side, gig tickets have all arrived. Bluetones, Nine Black Alps, The Rakes, and the Delays. Now, to find someone to go with...

NEWS FOR YOU

<sup>I would like to raise your attention to some areas that need your attention. So look on and read them.

~TitlePending is the home of =EverybodyLookAtMe's autobiography which I am ably helping with in the editor capacity. Please go and read it and leave your comments to help things along.

I have been adding new devwatches over the last few days, and would like to mention the following as places worth a purusal - ~sanna is captivating, and has a wonderful way of articulating tenderness and makes the everyday beautiful, and ~SuccessfulLiving has such a corngold feel and has bundles of talent.


Some very dull uninteresting nuggets about Ross:
He is slightly addicted to listening to The Rakes at the moment.
When in need of cheering up he will listen to The Chalets and dream of Peepee and Pony.
He likes to hurt his ears here.
He is often very frustrated because his team is Southampton FC.
He couldn’t live without The Bluetones. Sad as it may be.
Little old Ross cannot function without H&M, which forces Ross to open his wallet through pure weakness for buying too many clothes. Especially wooly jumpers.</sup>