<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266</id><updated>2011-07-29T00:59:56.655+01:00</updated><category term='paper air planes'/><category term='hair colour dye'/><category term='Batman'/><category term='Telford anime cosplay'/><category term='money jobs'/><category term='college candy town'/><title type='text'>Call-Me-Mo</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>146</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-3740728720799853250</id><published>2010-10-30T12:26:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-10-30T12:36:09.915+01:00</updated><title type='text'>HUZZAH!</title><content type='html'>This is the longest I've been on my computer for a long time. And I daren't do anything like open iTunes to rip my new My Passion CD because it WILL shut down again. I just know it.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, because of the temperamental state of my computer, I haven't been able to do anything to my media coursework. Yay for long days at college, and I know Una is going to bitch at me for it. Hopefully I'll be able to do something worthwhile to it at college next week.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dressing up for work tomorrow, because it's Halloween. Luke's going as the Mad Hatter, which will be fun, Matt's going as a zombie. But not dressed up. No, he'll be a zombie because, and I quote: "I'll still be drunk." Nice logic. No idea what Alice or Keiran are going as, but I'm going as Johnny Depp from Once Upon a Time in Mexico. As in, this:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://media.collegepublisher.com/media/paper332/stills/d9cshtqf.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 250px; height: 247px;" src="http://media.collegepublisher.com/media/paper332/stills/d9cshtqf.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Oooh, I'm looking forward to it. I just need to get some decent fake blood. I really want to do this well, and do it justice. I'm sure there will be pictures ;D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's about all from me, so until next time (my computer behaves),&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-3740728720799853250?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/3740728720799853250/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=3740728720799853250' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/3740728720799853250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/3740728720799853250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2010/10/huzzah.html' title='HUZZAH!'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-3031242747883495261</id><published>2010-10-20T23:02:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-10-20T23:10:34.590+01:00</updated><title type='text'>FMC</title><content type='html'>Fuck My Computer. Piece of shit likes to turn off randomly, and then take fucking ages to boot up again. I doubt I'll get much work done this year -_-'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still, half term next week, which means loads of free time. Oh wait, no, it means more hours at work. Oh, the joys of retail *dances* Never mind, eh. And to think I had booked to do work experience at the Adver...&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-3031242747883495261?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/3031242747883495261/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=3031242747883495261' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/3031242747883495261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/3031242747883495261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2010/10/fmc.html' title='FMC'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-750548934885725655</id><published>2010-10-11T23:05:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2010-10-12T12:42:23.830+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Music, CD's and Shows.</title><content type='html'>I do apologise it's taken this long to report in, I'm sure you're all dying to know how my night out went ;D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Very well, since you asked. Alice and I had a fanperson moment when we were talking ver' excitedly about My Chemical Romance's comeback, particularly their new song &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o-Rvt3zjAXk&amp;amp;feature=fvst"&gt;Na Na Na&lt;/a&gt;. This bodes well for the forthcoming album, I'm just gutted I can't make it to any of their UK shows they've just announced :( Hopefully they'll do an album tour once it's out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of CD releases, The Light Divided released their EP recently, and are selling it on their &lt;a href="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs668.snc4/60790_444861314931_6406414931_4870107_2700901_n.jpg"&gt;current tour&lt;/a&gt;. If you can, get down to your nearest show. These guys are brilliant, and it would be great for them to have loads of people turn up. If you need any more convincing, have a look on their &lt;a href="http://www.myspace.com/thelightdivided"&gt;myspace&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whilst we're on the subject of gigs, you might like to know I saw Michael Buble over the weekend. Some of you may be surprised by this, considering the majority of my music taste isn't like him at all, but I saw him live. Admittedly, I went for my sister, but by the end of it, I found myself enjoying it. It was a good night, sat in a sold out NIA in Birmingham with the whole crowd singing most of his songs for him. Liz got herself some merch, so needless to say she was happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Besides all this, not muach has happened. College, work. The same old humdrum stuff really. Yeah for interesting lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until next time,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-750548934885725655?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/750548934885725655/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=750548934885725655' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/750548934885725655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/750548934885725655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2010/10/music-cds-and-shows.html' title='Music, CD&apos;s and Shows.'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-2112753380547557806</id><published>2010-09-30T22:01:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-30T22:13:26.249+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Tiredness</title><content type='html'>Snoozy snoozy. College has taken it's toll on me this week; I don't have any energy to do ANYTHING D:&lt;div&gt;Tomorrow is going to be interesting. College from 9-12, work from 1-8 and then going out on the town for Lotty's 19th. Quite how I am going to function on Saturday is beyond me. Maybe espresso intravenously?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In other news, I went to see Resident Evil: Afterlife today. My overall opinion is that they have included a few zombie characters from the games, which is always good for a game-film adaptation (the zombie characters being the ones with squid like beasts coming out their mouths and giant axe man) but besides that, it didn't really leave a lasting impression. There was no real thrill in the film, just a few jumpy sections but that was it. And as for the 3D aspect... Too many slow-mo sequences, too much focus on the special effects to make the film outstanding. By all means, go and see it, just don't expect to be blown away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-2112753380547557806?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/2112753380547557806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=2112753380547557806' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/2112753380547557806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/2112753380547557806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2010/09/tiredness.html' title='Tiredness'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-2762843529434955469</id><published>2010-09-26T22:24:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-26T22:32:42.430+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Rocket Science</title><content type='html'>1. Find seemingly correct shoe size of particular style.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Find place to try on aforementioned shoe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Wrong size. Ask assistant for correct size.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Find other styles. Repeat steps 1 and 2.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Once finished, put shoes in respective boxes and put boxes back in (roughly) correct place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How hard can it be? Very, as it would appear. Today, in the last half hour at work, it seemed peoples sole intention was to utterly trash the shop. I had to put 3 different pairs of kids shoes away, and then about 5 pairs of women's away. I wouldn't mind if the shoes were put back in the box; hell, if the box lid was still open I wouldn't mind.&lt;br /&gt;But no. One family had to buck the system and leave every fucking shoe out of the box. They weren't bothered, they had bought the shoes they wanted. I just walked away to take a breather, head buried in my hands. Don't laugh, this is serious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-2762843529434955469?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/2762843529434955469/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=2762843529434955469' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/2762843529434955469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/2762843529434955469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2010/09/rocket-science.html' title='Rocket Science'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-6856447660819190872</id><published>2010-09-25T23:32:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-25T23:33:17.791+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Shit Day</title><content type='html'>Don't you hate it when little things in your day go wrong, and they all build up to make your day ultimately shit? Just like my day today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-6856447660819190872?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/6856447660819190872/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=6856447660819190872' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/6856447660819190872'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/6856447660819190872'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2010/09/shit-day.html' title='Shit Day'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-5540291588891194127</id><published>2010-09-24T21:58:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-24T23:27:34.406+01:00</updated><title type='text'>At Last! But For The Best?</title><content type='html'>I'm officially back in college! *cheers, applause etc.* Took it's frickin' time, and some pushing from my tutor, I will admit (Her name is Silva Gems. I shit you not.) but I'm in. Had to okay it with my teachers which was terrifying to say the least. I knew they wouldn't be too enthusiastic about letting me back in, but boy, they were extreme. Maybe I'm exaggerating when it comes to Dave and Una but Pete.... *sucks teeth* I was lucky to get on. He's warned me if anything slips up, I'm off. Gulp.&lt;br /&gt;But now that I'm in, starting a proper week next week, I find myself questioning my actions. Yes, I want to boost up my grades, but have I really done the right thing? What if, after all of this, I find that my best is my best, and I come out with the same results? A colossal waste of a year, and then what? Destined to spend my life working in mediocre jobs because I'm just academically crap?&lt;br /&gt;I suppose I should be optimistic, and say to myself "C'mon, you can do this!" and, inside, I know I can do better but when I have these niggling thoughts in the back of my mind, it's hard to stick to it.&lt;br /&gt;However, upon my return, a few friends didn't seem to be overwhelmed that I was back. Either they were, and they didn't show it, or they just weren't that bothered. Either way, I have a few other friends in college now, and new people to meet in different classes, so that gives me a chance to branch out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess one factor playing to my doubts is the amount of work I've been doing at Skechers. As much as I may hate it sometimes, especially mid week when no bugger comes in, I've really enjoyed just going in and having a laugh with the other guys. Whilst it might not be the best option (I am only part time, after all), the thought of dropping college altogether and going into work proper has crossed my mind. Whilst it's not my original plan, it does seem like a good option, especially with the hours I've been putting in at the moment. It's handy having a good source of income when I have things like driving lessons to pay for, it lets me have some disposable income. But then do I want to ditch my chances of getting better grades thus a better job, just for the sake of more dinero?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you can see, there is a continuous battle in my head at the moment, and quite frankly, I'm not enjoying it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until next time,&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-5540291588891194127?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/5540291588891194127/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=5540291588891194127' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/5540291588891194127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/5540291588891194127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2010/09/at-last-but-for-best.html' title='At Last! But For The Best?'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-6634022753773868565</id><published>2010-09-21T23:19:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-21T23:23:31.056+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Progress</title><content type='html'>So it seems my rant about New College yesterday came to some use. I had a phone call today arranging a date for my (needless and pointless) initial assessments, and although the date they suggested was problematic, we got it sorted in the end. Now watch as I have to frickin' wait another month before I actually start.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-6634022753773868565?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/6634022753773868565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=6634022753773868565' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/6634022753773868565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/6634022753773868565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2010/09/progress.html' title='Progress'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-1125099437320847448</id><published>2010-09-20T23:08:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-20T23:18:34.538+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Workaholic</title><content type='html'>Wow, it seems it's been nothing but work work work for me recently. Mind you, with all this spare time on my hands, I'm not complaining. More hours = more green, as it were.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then, I can't get over how much New College are dragging their knuckles in terms of getting me back in. I rang them up last Friday to chase it, and was told "We've got your personal tutor sorted, and you're confirmed on the registers for the subjects you've chosen, we're just waiting on a date for your initial assessment."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two things:&lt;br /&gt;1) I did the fucking initial assessments when I started, and I've been at college for two years so they know I'm a decent student.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2) If they have everything sorted lessons wise, why not just fucking let me start?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;They're being so Neanderthal about the whole thing, it's really started to wind me up. Make me wait any longer, and the fucking term'll be over.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-1125099437320847448?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/1125099437320847448/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=1125099437320847448' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/1125099437320847448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/1125099437320847448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2010/09/workaholic.html' title='Workaholic'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-1564192557872570517</id><published>2010-09-13T11:50:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-13T12:07:03.399+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Hectic</title><content type='html'>Sorry I have posted much recently, truth be told I just haven't had the time. And when I have had the time, my computer has been winding me up by turning off for no reason. No shut down, just BAM! Off. I need a new machine.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So been working many many hours at work to make up for my holiday. I do get paid holiday, but this months pay is still going to be pants :( And there are talks of another night out. Why is everything so expensive!?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But, I have been doing other things than work. Wednesday night, for example, was spent round Tash's new flat as a kind of house warming thing. Being a BYOB affair, and me coming straight from work, I had barely anything to drink. I had a can of Fosters given to me by Tom (he saw I had no drink, said "I feel sorry for you." and gave it to me) and then a can of Bulmers some time later. At some point during the night, Tash just stood behind me playing with my face. She was somewhat unsober. Oh, and my sock got torn in half.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;At the weekend, after 4 hours work (it felt weird being in for such a short period of time), I went to see Scott Pilgrim vs The World. I suggest you go see it, before it's gone. I thoroughly enjoyed it, and it was a lot of fun. It only had one drawback though: the 12 year old girls that were sat behind us. Srsly, they giggled throughout the entire film, even at bits that weren't that funny. They really really hacked me off.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then, to top off a great weekend, I met up with Hayley yesterday for a mooch around Lydiard Park (or as the sign says, Yd ard P rk) and boy what a hilarious time that was. We discovered 'buttle' was a real word, meaning to work or serve as a butler (but you already knew that) and we caused splashes in the lake. No, not like that you dirty minded reader. We found some giant logs and had immense satisfaction at dropping them in the water. Yes, we are children.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Until next time,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-1564192557872570517?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/1564192557872570517/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=1564192557872570517' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/1564192557872570517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/1564192557872570517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2010/09/hectic.html' title='Hectic'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-1391590252825391297</id><published>2010-09-07T12:34:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-07T12:36:52.862+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Liberation</title><content type='html'>Been using my time productively today so far, by revising for driving theory (which I still need to book) and uploading pictures to my somewhat decrepit deviantART. Thought I may as well showcase some of my recent holiday snaps, &lt;a href="http://apologise.deviantart.com/"&gt;feel free to take a look&lt;/a&gt; :D Comments and such are appreciated :)&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-1391590252825391297?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/1391590252825391297/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=1391590252825391297' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/1391590252825391297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/1391590252825391297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2010/09/liberation.html' title='Liberation'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-785384946162267614</id><published>2010-09-05T22:08:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-05T22:50:22.325+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Alternative</title><content type='html'>Long day at work yesterday. By the end, I drank 3 cups of coffee in the space of an hour, and was pretty much hyped up on caffeine. So much so, I started to dance to Owl City, and Keiran joined in for no reason. A woman walked past and said to us "Are you two happy in your job?" to which I replied "No, I just think I'm delirious. It's been a long day..."&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After work, I met with Tash to go to some gathering thing her friend had organised, some alternative music get together thing. It turned out to be a metal gig for a bunch of goths. I was the most colourful one in the entire fucking room, and the bands were pretty awful. Although I got a free vodka jelly shot out of it, so I can't complain really.&lt;br /&gt;Fuck it, I can, and I will. Bloody screamy screamy shit.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-785384946162267614?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/785384946162267614/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=785384946162267614' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/785384946162267614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/785384946162267614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2010/09/alternative.html' title='Alternative'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-6534502107250856341</id><published>2010-09-03T21:00:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-03T21:18:32.787+01:00</updated><title type='text'>"Am I pissing you offuhfuh?"</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/4hDHqbtnwoU?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_GB&amp;amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/4hDHqbtnwoU?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_GB&amp;amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love this man/puppet more than I love my own limbs.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-6534502107250856341?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/6534502107250856341/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=6534502107250856341' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/6534502107250856341'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/6534502107250856341'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2010/09/am-i-pissing-you-offuhfuh.html' title='&quot;Am I pissing you offuhfuh?&quot;'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-8184171510466257174</id><published>2010-09-03T20:50:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-03T20:54:22.252+01:00</updated><title type='text'>BANG!</title><content type='html'>That is what this fucking neglected blog is gonna come back with my friends. For too long I have gone through week long spates of blogging, then giving up. Those days are in the past.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe, in a bid to keep you folks, I'll develop a much better social life too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's alright, you can calm down now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-8184171510466257174?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/8184171510466257174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=8184171510466257174' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/8184171510466257174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/8184171510466257174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2010/09/bang.html' title='BANG!'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-4149700516342544521</id><published>2010-07-06T22:13:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2010-07-06T22:28:19.812+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Dogging Centipede</title><content type='html'>Sorry for the week of emptiness, for some reason I didn't think of blogging. Forgive me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not much happened, if I'm honest. Went round Frank's on Friday to waste money on his glitched Juiced 2, and to laugh at fights and shenanigans on Jerry Springer, sold my first pair of Shape Ups on Saturday, closely followed by a second pair. I also had an impromptu stay over at Ash's with Hayley on Sunday, which was a laugh. Especially when Ash described a canine 'centipede' as a 'dogging centipede'. Oh my, that was too funny. Then we watched fat people falling over/getting hurt on youtube. Call us cruel, we'll laugh in your face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since then, nothing much has happened. Although I did have Ash call me earlier asking "Did you touch me whilst I was sleeping?" That is quite possibly the strangest phone call I've ever had. Ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-4149700516342544521?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/4149700516342544521/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=4149700516342544521' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/4149700516342544521'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/4149700516342544521'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2010/07/dogging-centipede.html' title='Dogging Centipede'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-822250981239427742</id><published>2010-06-27T22:45:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-27T23:18:57.703+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer Summer Summer Time.</title><content type='html'>Yes, that IS as in that awful song by DJ Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince i.e Will Smith. Actually, I lie. It's as in the classic 90's choon by... You get it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not only has this weekend been bloody marvellous weather wise, I had a good couple of days at work. Yesterday, I managed to sell about £550 worth of shoes. This, my friends, is good. Although not as good as Alice, who managed to sell £233 worth in one go. None of us could quite believe it. Quite amazing.&lt;br /&gt;However, this uber uber hot weather has been playing havoc with my computer. In that it overheats far too easily. When it overheats, it turns off by itself. Which doesn't amuse me, no siree. In the end I gave up, and went to bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up this morning, and my back fockin' killed. I'm not being melodramatic when I say it hurt to move. At one point, I was almost on the floor, it hurt so much. But Mum gave me a couple of her super strong meds, and I could function normally :D&lt;br /&gt;So, with a bag full of back up and a semi working back, I set off for work. Again. Outside the Outlet, they have a farm market on Sundays, and there's a stall that sells cheese. They have a stuffed goat mascot thing a few metres from the stall, and the temptation to just kick it in the face was unbearable. Next week, I'll get a picture of it so you can understand why. Seriously, you'll want to kick it through your computer screen.&lt;br /&gt;Another good day at work, although I have no idea how much I sold. Was quite a lot, is all I know. I still need to sell a pair of Shape Ups though. Was sooo close today. Why do I keep getting near misses!? As far as I know, I'm the only part timer who still needs to sell his first pair of shape ups. Grrr...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SPORTING NEWS: Haha, England are out of the World Cup, after a 4-1 battering from Germany. I didn't even watch the game, I had more than enough info coming from Facebook. Also, Vettel won the Euro GP for Red Bull with Hamilton and Button taking second and thrid for McLaren. Webber crashed out in spectacular fashion, and Michael 'Legend' Schumacher came 16th. As in, the one who dominated i.e made the sport boring as hell for 6 seasons and then came in after 8 years of retirement expecting to be on top again. Needless to say, I've put him forward for the FRONT Cuntdown ;D&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-822250981239427742?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/822250981239427742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=822250981239427742' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/822250981239427742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/822250981239427742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2010/06/summer-summer-summer-time.html' title='Summer Summer Summer Time.'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-6767971620645379346</id><published>2010-06-25T12:42:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-25T12:53:55.014+01:00</updated><title type='text'>STOP!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;EMERGENCY STOP TIME.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Doesn't really flow as well as Hammer time, but hey, whatcha gonna do.&lt;br /&gt;So yeah, my 6th or 7th driving lesson (I can't remember exactly) has just been and gone. Mucho bueno, mi amigos! My driving today was described by Mr Instructor himself as my best so far. This makes me happy :D I was pleased with my ferpormance too, despite stalling horribly on one roundabout. Twice. I apologise to the person held up behind me, it won't happen again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-6767971620645379346?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/6767971620645379346/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=6767971620645379346' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/6767971620645379346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/6767971620645379346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2010/06/stop.html' title='STOP!'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-1703589275237090020</id><published>2010-06-24T22:39:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-24T23:12:34.237+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Store Room Loneliness.</title><content type='html'>Had an English exam this morning, which I think I did alright on. I'd rather not get all confidant and cocky, because it'll just end badly. "I fockin' NAILED it!" Result: E. You see?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really long shift at work today, 1-8. I spent about 4 of those hours out in the stock room, pricing all the stuff we had in there. My god that was dull. Iain allowed me to listen to the radio through teh interwebz, but the sound from the computer was nothing short of atrocious. Also, Split Infinity Radio wouldn't work (it never does on other computers), so I had to live with Radio 1. Listened 'live' for a bit; Greg James had Katy Perry in. Eventually, I gave up on that, and went for the Rock Show with Danny P Carter. The first song played? 'Crystal Clear' by Young Guns. This made me happy, and also made me realise that the Rock Shows likes opening with YG songs... But then the music went ROARROARTMETAL! so I switched to Zane Lowe. I do love that Kiwi, but as I got further into the stock room, he faded in obscurity :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With an hour an a half left of my shift, I was relieved of stock pricing duty, mostly because Luke and Tracey had finished their days, the rotters. I was told that Iain hadn't got any sales at all, and that I was to get in there first. I sold 4 pairs, compared to Iain's 1. Not bad for an hour and a half, no? Considering Iain is the manager, too...&lt;br /&gt;I could've made 5 pairs, but one customer couldn't make up their mind. They had their daughter with them, and I recognised her from my tutor. It was actually really nice to see her, and we had a nice brief chat. Her mum was all "I dunno, I think I'll sleep on it... When're you next working?" She said that she wasn't coming back unless I was there. I was flattered, it has to be said. At least it's one sale definitely in the bag.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-1703589275237090020?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/1703589275237090020/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=1703589275237090020' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/1703589275237090020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/1703589275237090020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2010/06/store-room-loneliness.html' title='Store Room Loneliness.'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-4336470492709903086</id><published>2010-06-21T11:47:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-24T22:39:11.318+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Opening Day</title><content type='html'>So, the store opened today :D Had to get there for 9, so I met up with Luke and we walked over to the outlet. Joy for hardly any buses on Sundays -_- Still, we met Tracey en route; anyone would think we'd planned it. We didn't, it just worked out well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we got the store, and was given a lecture on how we should perform blah blah blah and then the store opened. I wasn't due to start work until 12, so I had 2 hours to kill. I couldn't even go home thanks to the awkward buses. Luckily, I'd taken a Top Gear mag with me, so that killed some time. The mint ice cream I bought helped too :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So 12 o'clock came, and it was my time to shine :D I very very very nearly sold a pair of Shape Up's (a 'stylish' fitness shoe that apparently promotes better health), but then I was reminded they weren't included in our BOGOHP deal. I'll leave that to you to work out. Obviously, I had to relay it back to the customer, and they were all "Oh. Well you've just lost a sale.", stuffed the box back into my hands and stormed out. Bloody people.&lt;br /&gt;However, I did not let this mar my experience. I soldiered on, and by the end of my shift at 4, I'd managed to sell 6 or 7 pairs (I can't remember). Not bad, IMHO.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But yes, that be the summing up of a successful opening day, brought to you by Skechers, Swindon. You should pop round one day, see what we got ;D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-4336470492709903086?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/4336470492709903086/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=4336470492709903086' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/4336470492709903086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/4336470492709903086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2010/06/opening-day.html' title='Opening Day'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-1982628356118080177</id><published>2010-06-19T22:25:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-19T22:36:55.699+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Whew.</title><content type='html'>It's been a long long week. The other day, I didn't finish work until 11pm. I'd started at 9am. Christ. At least we got Domino's Pizza out of it :D&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But after this long week of blood (the boxes have made a mess of my knuckles), sweat and other bodily fluids, Skechers is ready to open tomorrow :D The downside is that I have to be up to get there for 9. On a Sunday. With no buses. Yay for early morning walks... But Luke said he'd meet me, since he lives just up the road. At least I won't be alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We desperately needed a change of choons at work the other day, so I grabbed the first CDs I could before leaving the house. They were Kerrang CDs. They were alright, until bands like Machine Head, Gallows and Job For A Cowboy came on. Everyone hated them, including me. So I took more socially acceptable ones today, including (wait for it) Now 53. Yes, Now 53, that is how old school I'm not. I might just donate that to the store...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gosh, I've spoken far too much about work recently. But it seems I've been living there with overnight stays at my house. Hopefully that'll change...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-1982628356118080177?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/1982628356118080177/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=1982628356118080177' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/1982628356118080177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/1982628356118080177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2010/06/whew.html' title='Whew.'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-5705159811977475440</id><published>2010-06-16T22:22:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-16T22:28:15.982+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Hectic</title><content type='html'>My my my, what a bloody busy week this has been. Let me break it down for you:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;Monday&lt;/u&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Went to my new and first job (congratulate me later ;D) to help get the initial delivery in. Went in at 8, got out just after 9.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;Tuesday&lt;/u&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;2 and a half hour Media exam in the morning, followed by chasing Nigel, followed by MORE work. We sorted through the first delivery, putting them on shelves and what not AND then got the second delivery in; I was in there from 1 til 9. I'm so glad I'm getting paid for this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;Wednesday&lt;/u&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Day off from work, but that was due to a 2 hour Communication exam I had this afternoon. I failed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yeah, that's this week so far. Back into work tomorrow at 9 to do, well, more of Tuesday's work, I'm assuming. Don't have to get another delivery in though, so I'll have some time to myself. This, I like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-5705159811977475440?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/5705159811977475440/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=5705159811977475440' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/5705159811977475440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/5705159811977475440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2010/06/hectic.html' title='Hectic'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-291136089321770883</id><published>2010-06-11T22:41:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-11T22:44:56.914+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Enough is Enough</title><content type='html'>Too many times I've let this fall into disuse; I can imagine that if this blog were a building, it would look as decrepit as the ruins of a North Wales castle. And that isn't a good look.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I the number of readers I'll have is zilch, but hopefully, when I blow the dust of this ol' thing and start using it properly, that number will slowly build. That'd be nice :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's to a fresh start.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-291136089321770883?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/291136089321770883/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=291136089321770883' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/291136089321770883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/291136089321770883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2010/06/enough-is-enough.html' title='Enough is Enough'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-8956040324163536825</id><published>2010-02-14T18:25:00.003Z</published><updated>2010-02-14T18:33:02.813Z</updated><title type='text'>A Week Later...</title><content type='html'>Yeah, not going well, is it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry guys, I just haven't really had the enthusiasm for this =/ I will do this, honest.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I replaced my old trainers yesterday. About bloody time, tee bee aitch. Wanna see what with? Thought you would :D&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/S3hBf7KKB9I/AAAAAAAAAKA/6QYBnZ-OxYQ/s1600-h/DSC00284.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/S3hBf7KKB9I/AAAAAAAAAKA/6QYBnZ-OxYQ/s400/DSC00284.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438168566761916370" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;How lush are they!? Only cost me £30 too :D I love them too much already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not much else to report on this frankly quite boring Sunday, so until next time :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-8956040324163536825?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/8956040324163536825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=8956040324163536825' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/8956040324163536825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/8956040324163536825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2010/02/week-later.html' title='A Week Later...'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/S3hBf7KKB9I/AAAAAAAAAKA/6QYBnZ-OxYQ/s72-c/DSC00284.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-5635419188069063186</id><published>2010-02-05T23:01:00.002Z</published><updated>2010-02-06T00:29:26.942Z</updated><title type='text'>The Joys of Adulthood</title><content type='html'>Oh, wow. Remember way back in early January when I said I was gonna keep up with this? No, neither do I.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what better day to restart it than on my 18th! That's right, motherbitches! As of today, I'm legal to do anything I damn well want! Well, until I get ID...&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, what have I done on this milestone of a day? Not much, to be honest with you. I had college, and nothing much happened there. I met up with Kayleigh beforehand, and she gave me a slab of Thornton's chocolate (HOH!). We got all excited about Young Guns on the 7th May, despite their appalling choice of venue (The Furnace aka A shithole), and probably did some "Jonny G..." scenarios.&lt;br /&gt;In Blue Banana, I tried a Black Parade jacket on, and Kayleigh hated it. She slagged it off completely, and some complete stranger found it too funny. We made his day, tbqh. And then we made Swin City dude's day, by Kayleigh shoving a can of Mountain Dew in my bag whilst I was dithering. He loved it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After college, Kayleigh and I trekked to the Outlet because we had cravings for KFC. It was lush, ta. And then we trundled to Claires, where Kayleigh bought herself a fantastic pair of translucent blue wayfarers. They are the epitome of spectacular.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My birthday cake was marvelous. Made by one of Mum's work colleagues, it was a VW Beetle-esque shape, minus the rear windscreen (I know, major design flaw) with 'MARTYN18' on the registration plates. But this is all overshadowed by the colour of the icing: BRITISH. RACING. GREEN. I was in love. I'm still in awe as to how she got that exact colour. I got a fantastic suit jacket, that Adolf-turned-Gok proceeded to give me fashion advice on :S Liz bought me a Cyanide &amp;amp; Happiness book, and Adolf said he knew what C&amp;amp;H was. And that he liked it. Oh dear. Still, I love it, and so should you. You slags.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-5635419188069063186?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/5635419188069063186/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=5635419188069063186' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/5635419188069063186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/5635419188069063186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2010/02/joys-of-adulthood.html' title='The Joys of Adulthood'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-5098938037344088531</id><published>2010-01-21T23:19:00.002Z</published><updated>2010-01-21T23:21:46.299Z</updated><title type='text'>It's Been a While...</title><content type='html'>Merry christmas, happy new years and all that formality shit.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;New Years Resolutions:&lt;br /&gt;1. Stop spending so much money&lt;br /&gt;2. Make proper meals for food&lt;br /&gt;3. KEEP UP TO FUCKING DATE WITH THIS THING!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I say it all the time, but I mean it when I say I WILL start updating regularly again.&lt;br /&gt;Tonight though? CBA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-5098938037344088531?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/5098938037344088531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=5098938037344088531' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/5098938037344088531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/5098938037344088531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2010/01/its-been-while.html' title='It&apos;s Been a While...'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-2777367095791175702</id><published>2009-12-20T21:19:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-12-20T21:24:55.320Z</updated><title type='text'>Good News Everyone!</title><content type='html'>Bugger all happened this weekend, except for these little nuggets:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Rage Against The Machine secured the Christmas Number One spot for 2009, beating X Factor winner, Joe McElderberry. Tom Morello has said Rage will play a free show in the UK to show their appreciation, and most of the proceeds they have got from the mass purchase of 'Killing In The Name' will go to charity.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;On a more personal note, Dad rang to inform that he and his partner Joy are due to get married :D From this day forward, they are officially engaged. CONGRATULATIONS!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-2777367095791175702?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/2777367095791175702/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=2777367095791175702' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/2777367095791175702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/2777367095791175702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009/12/good-news-everyone.html' title='Good News Everyone!'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-7836914450016056643</id><published>2009-12-14T19:53:00.009Z</published><updated>2009-12-14T20:03:33.442Z</updated><title type='text'>Pudding Cat</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/SyaZnyLRG3I/AAAAAAAAAJ4/SDukDv_MHgk/s1600-h/Harry+.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 128px; height: 160px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/SyaZnyLRG3I/AAAAAAAAAJ4/SDukDv_MHgk/s400/Harry+.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415184510722579314" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/SyaZTZjhebI/AAAAAAAAAJw/zPptgG1uqmg/s1600-h/Harry+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/SyaZTZjhebI/AAAAAAAAAJw/zPptgG1uqmg/s400/Harry+2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415184160516045234" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/SyaZI5KgpKI/AAAAAAAAAJo/ai5oN0_KIb4/s1600-h/DSC00078.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/SyaZI5KgpKI/AAAAAAAAAJo/ai5oN0_KIb4/s400/DSC00078.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415183980022506658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/SyaYxjDA48I/AAAAAAAAAJg/LMTZQo3gRb4/s1600-h/DSC00090.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/SyaYxjDA48I/AAAAAAAAAJg/LMTZQo3gRb4/s400/DSC00090.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415183578948494274" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/SyaYfPah2WI/AAAAAAAAAJY/YLJiDbe7hw4/s1600-h/DSC00077.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/SyaYfPah2WI/AAAAAAAAAJY/YLJiDbe7hw4/s400/DSC00077.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415183264440768866" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/SyaYWieO5bI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/6J4cXQY3vUk/s1600-h/DSC00076.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/SyaYWieO5bI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/6J4cXQY3vUk/s400/DSC00076.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415183114937755058" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/SyaYIuIyOtI/AAAAAAAAAJI/0WGLw0HdN_U/s1600-h/DSC00047.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/SyaYIuIyOtI/AAAAAAAAAJI/0WGLw0HdN_U/s400/DSC00047.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415182877550852818" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My lovely Harry cat, whom I grew up with, and dearly loved for the 17 years I knew him, passed away earlier today. He was 18. I'm going to miss him, with every fibre of my being.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-7836914450016056643?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/7836914450016056643/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=7836914450016056643' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/7836914450016056643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/7836914450016056643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009/12/pudding-cat.html' title='Pudding Cat'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/SyaZnyLRG3I/AAAAAAAAAJ4/SDukDv_MHgk/s72-c/Harry+.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-6362786558432449288</id><published>2009-12-10T22:41:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-12-10T22:59:14.442Z</updated><title type='text'>Invisible People</title><content type='html'>Spent pretty much the entirety of the 177 journey this morning discussing the plight of the invisible people. You heard.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Media was crap, nothing ever happens of interest. It's what you get for having Una McDoughnut and not a particularly interesting set of friends. Boo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the break, Liam played a few Jon La Joie songs from his phone, and Steve developed a new 'dinosaur' martial art: T-rexitchu. It's... different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C&amp;amp;C was dull as well. Needless to say, I spent a lot of the time playing pool on my phone. It's because I'm cool.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Waiting for Kayleigh, Lozz decided to attack me with her hair spray. Not in my hair, just wherever she could get to. My wrist still pulls a bit. She also did her favourite of spraying my jeans with her deodorant at point blank range. Last time she did that, I was wearing my black skinnies. They had a white mark on them. Thankfully, it didn't show up as much on today's blue jeans. She got Jake's black shoes too. They marked :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After Kayleigh's torture session with The Doughnut, we gallivanted off to town and into Tesco so Kayleigh could get Glamour magazine. I was peckish, so I looked at the cakes.  I said "I would get a gingerbread man, but that would be cannibalism." I got the gingerbread anyway. My brethren was nice, ta for asking.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We saw Village Idiot today. She was strangely sedate, and I suggested maybe her doctors told her to calm down. Kayleigh was amused.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And then it all went downhill from there really. Just got sick of not being able to find a job, having to stick with a paper round blah blah blah FML. And then, earlier, Liz was stood in front of the TV for years, 'rolling up her sleeves' to do the washing up. I'm drying up, and I'm stood there for the time Liz was, and get yelled at for not doing the job. WOT?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;P.S: I order you to go watch the video to&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X5ciIFY5eQU&amp;amp;feature=sub"&gt; Winter Kiss by Young Guns&lt;/a&gt;. It's amazing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-6362786558432449288?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/6362786558432449288/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=6362786558432449288' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/6362786558432449288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/6362786558432449288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009/12/invisible-people.html' title='Invisible People'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-9181401984849763191</id><published>2009-12-09T19:52:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-12-09T20:29:07.255Z</updated><title type='text'>Where'd He Go?</title><content type='html'>I shouldn't be allowed chocolate cookies in the morning. This past week, I've had two, and on both occasions, I've managed to smudge chocolate into what I was wearing. FML.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;English was dull: we had a timed essay to do. I just couldn't think, complete mind block. Didn't help that I didn't have my own sheet. So I went for a walk to try and get some ideas. Shame I went back when I only had 20 minutes left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before Journo, I nipped into town to get Kerrang and have a look at the hotly anticipated Readers Poll results. What bullshit that was! Jared pissing Leto as Sexiest Male!? 30STM as Best Band!? Nah mate. The only categories I totally agreed with where Best New Band and Hero of the Year, Young Guns and Corey Taylor respectively. Although a special mention has to go to Hayley Williams, voted Sexiest Female. Her reaction? "The people of England need to have their eyes checked!" Couldn't have said it better myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Journo itself was alright. Some guy was in, talking about blogging (I don't know his name, I missed the introduction), critiquing other blogs and the like. After he did his bit, I wrote a piece for my other blog which you can read &lt;a href="http://swindonian-memoirs.blogspot.com/2009/12/purpose-built-venue-its-madness.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;. You don't have to, but it'd be nice :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I actually used a smiley intentionally. Oh dear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anywhore, C&amp;amp;C with Pete wasn't bad, he set us up with a powerpoint to make, and left us to it. So basically, it was a very very short lesson. I do love that diamond geezer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;P.S: Adolf came in, and when Liz and I went downstairs earlier, we couldn't find him. At all. We were all "What the hull!?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-9181401984849763191?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/9181401984849763191/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=9181401984849763191' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/9181401984849763191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/9181401984849763191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009/12/whered-he-go.html' title='Where&apos;d He Go?'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-3085730719533460213</id><published>2009-12-07T16:12:00.003Z</published><updated>2009-12-07T16:16:41.777Z</updated><title type='text'>OUTRAGE!</title><content type='html'>Short one, as I am sat in the library, waiting for Ron to stop yammering. Which will be in about 10 minutes. And I can't be bothered to go through the day (maybe tomorrow). And I need a drink.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love Mondays. I get to catch up on Top Gear, so it's all good. Although this time, one of the staff meandered over and told me I should be doing work. With 1 MINUTE of Top Gear left. Bit slow, love. I would say roll on next week, but they aren't on :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Told you it'd be short. Like me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;P.S Madness tonight, cannae wait.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-3085730719533460213?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/3085730719533460213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=3085730719533460213' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/3085730719533460213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/3085730719533460213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009/12/outrage.html' title='OUTRAGE!'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-8521043471604698945</id><published>2009-12-03T21:41:00.003Z</published><updated>2009-12-03T21:51:17.833Z</updated><title type='text'>FILTHY SLACKER</title><content type='html'>Sorry...&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;TBH, not much has been happening. Although I did go to town with Mullinz today. He bought me Monster, gingerbread and cookies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bought myself a model with the money Grandad gave me for chrimbo. Wanna see it?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/SxgyjmPSoDI/AAAAAAAAAI4/jN8MOh4o3z0/s1600-h/DSC00241.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/SxgyjmPSoDI/AAAAAAAAAI4/jN8MOh4o3z0/s1600-h/DSC00241.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/SxgyjmPSoDI/AAAAAAAAAI4/jN8MOh4o3z0/s400/DSC00241.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411130539427143730" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;How lush is that!? Not very? Well I liked it, so jog on.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-8521043471604698945?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/8521043471604698945/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=8521043471604698945' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/8521043471604698945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/8521043471604698945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009/12/filthy-slacker.html' title='FILTHY SLACKER'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/SxgyjmPSoDI/AAAAAAAAAI4/jN8MOh4o3z0/s72-c/DSC00241.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-7384193675589461487</id><published>2009-11-16T19:48:00.004Z</published><updated>2009-11-16T20:43:20.571Z</updated><title type='text'>Sexy Old Jigsaw</title><content type='html'>I feel up to date. With my television viewing, at least. I spent this morning relishing the fact I didn't have Journalism whilst watching Doctor Who. I have to say, that was a faintly terrifying episode. I may not drink water ever again. And I caught up on Top Gear as well, although my headphones were slightly dodgy. Turns out it was the 'puter though, so that was a relief (I was at college at the time).&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Went into college to meet up with Kayleigh, and was assaulted by Sarah. She spun round on the spot, and hit me with her bag. Several times. I'm sure she'd be gutted to know it didn't really hurt that much. She even did it in the lift. Silly girl.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Waited for Lozz with Kayleigh on the computer, looking at loads of pictures. When Lozz did come, Kayleigh printed off some of her pictures, and then Lozz did some of hers. Whilst she did that, Kayleigh and I played Lozz's Rocksound Top Trumps. Kayleigh won, but not before I managed to win the Aiden card from her. She won it back, and as I handed it back, I said "You'll like this one." and showed her the picture (it was Nightmare Anatomy-era 'Yam) and she simply snatched it from my hand and uttered 'Baby.'&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/SwG5BFMgoWI/AAAAAAAAAIw/E6vsN3-9nyk/s1600/Yam.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 331px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/SwG5BFMgoWI/AAAAAAAAAIw/E6vsN3-9nyk/s400/Yam.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404804456046960994" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Blame her? Didn't think so.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;P.S- The title of this entry comes from a Tobin Bell-lookalike that sat next to me on the bus. I did a double take.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-7384193675589461487?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/7384193675589461487/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=7384193675589461487' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/7384193675589461487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/7384193675589461487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009/11/sexy-old-jigsaw.html' title='Sexy Old Jigsaw'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/SwG5BFMgoWI/AAAAAAAAAIw/E6vsN3-9nyk/s72-c/Yam.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-6287527230429880004</id><published>2009-11-15T12:26:00.003Z</published><updated>2009-11-15T14:44:01.392Z</updated><title type='text'>2012</title><content type='html'>As much as I'd like to say that this film about the end of the world was a prophecy of the forthcoming London olympics (which will inevitably be a failure), it wasn't.&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, the special effects were simply amazing. But then you wouldn't expect anything less, would you. I think the highlight of the film was watching a portion of LA sink. That's right. It tipped, a la Titanic, and sank. But, before you disregard it as yet-another-Day-After-Tomorrow, not everything went underwater. Oh no, there were several Pompey-esque volcanic scenes. Much more End Of The World, rather than Everyone's Drowning Due To Global Warming.&lt;br /&gt;Being a Hollywood film, it was very very predictable. You had the same stunts over and over again (how many times do cars need to run off a ramp?), and multiple stereotypical shots e.g plane is engulfed by ash cloud, plane emerges unscathed. The plot was... Well, there was very little plot to speak of. It was incredibly empty. This film is nothing short of being SFX driven. If I was going to get it on DVD, I'd make sure it was Blu-Ray. And I'd watch it on a HD TV. Since I don't have either, I won't be getting it on regular DVD.&lt;br /&gt;Still, would make a great opening ceremony.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-6287527230429880004?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/6287527230429880004/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=6287527230429880004' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/6287527230429880004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/6287527230429880004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009/11/2012.html' title='2012'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-188142199841879033</id><published>2009-11-07T21:22:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-11-07T22:07:31.215Z</updated><title type='text'>Two Parts</title><content type='html'>I'ma split this post into two, since they were the main events of today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;TOWN&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh good lordy, what fun it is going to town with Liz. I'm not even being sarcastic. Essentially, we just wandered around, making fun of other people and I was growling at her M Shadows-esque for an eternity. She found it too funny. I told her about the "Get a better hobby" and she also found that too funny. By the end of it, my throat was getting a little sore.&lt;br /&gt;Saw Ellie and Zander in Subway. So we munched with them. Ellie was pleased she managed not to get any of her food down her. Just as she was leaving, she noticed some sauce on her white shorts. Spoke too soon? Definitely. I stole about half of her cookie, which she wasn't too bothered about. Took the fun away really. Boo.&lt;br /&gt;Liz and I were talking about how our Grandad looked after our late Grandmother (who suffered a severe stroke) for loads of years, despite her inability to communicate. Liz was saying how she admired him for it, and that she wouldn't be able to do it. Then I came out with "I'd be like 'Bitch, why ain't you talking to me!?'" and a nearby guy obviously overheard, and looked at me xD All a good laugh.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Handed my CV into Republic, JD Sports and Rymans today. Although I was rejected from about 50 different stores. Alright, I'll tell the truth. 49. I hope I get a fecking job soon. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;I NEED MONEY, BITCHES.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;LYDIARD&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After much huffing and puffing, Mum let Liz and I go to the firework display, and decided she was coming too. Fair enough, I spent a lot less than I would have had I had to pay myself.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mum wanted my to wear a hat when we went out, so I put on my scarf, hoodie stolen from Lozz, and my trilby. I looked propa gangsta, tee bee aitch. Mum was all "I meant your other hat." but didn't make anything of it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Despite Mum paying for the lot of us, I still took a fiver just in case, and spent £2.50 of it on two coffees and a cup of soup. Guess who the soup was for.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I need a piss at the most inconvenient times. We'd just found our spot, people were crowding around behind us and my bladder decided it was full. I spent most of the display bouncing up and down on the spot. Ah vhell, still enjoyed it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The first lot that went up were green, and, resurrecting last years Voldemort identifications, Liz and I shouted "OBLIVIATE!" because we're just that cool. Oh wait. Mum said they looked like alien antennae.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On the way out, Mum was ranting about people who would buy firework show tickets in advance. She called them sad. I agree to some extent.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This year was better, because it wasn't raining and so I wasn't cold. Although last year with Kayleigh was the bomb. Shame she couldn't make it this year. There's always next year, when we can buy our own :D&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Until then...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-188142199841879033?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/188142199841879033/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=188142199841879033' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/188142199841879033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/188142199841879033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009/11/two-parts.html' title='Two Parts'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-7147834217059819025</id><published>2009-11-04T21:38:00.004Z</published><updated>2009-11-04T21:50:08.999Z</updated><title type='text'>Screw This For A Game Of Soldiers.</title><content type='html'>"I fancy some KFC."&lt;br /&gt;-walks to Greenbridge KFC-&lt;br /&gt;"[order]"&lt;br /&gt;-KFC card machines aren't working-&lt;br /&gt;-walk to nearby cinema to look for cash machine-&lt;br /&gt;-no cash machines-&lt;br /&gt;"This is gonna sound wierd, but could you charge me £10 from my card and give the cash back to me?"&lt;br /&gt;"Sorry, we don't do cashback. Nearest cash machine is..."&lt;br /&gt;"Miles away."&lt;br /&gt;"Just past Boots."&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, miles away."&lt;br /&gt;-trunches to cash machine in rain-&lt;br /&gt;-cash machine charges &lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;6 pence&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; more than I can afford to take money out-&lt;br /&gt;-bus to town to get cash out-&lt;div&gt;-town cash machines won't let me even check my balance-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF0000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;GIVE UP.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-7147834217059819025?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/7147834217059819025/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=7147834217059819025' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/7147834217059819025'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/7147834217059819025'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009/11/screw-this-for-game-of-soldiers.html' title='Screw This For A Game Of Soldiers.'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-1215510215980912450</id><published>2009-11-02T21:29:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-11-02T21:32:23.513Z</updated><title type='text'>Sorreh.</title><content type='html'>Been lazy with this thang again. Had work experience at the Adver over the half term so I haven't really had a holiday, okay? It's my excuse, and if you don't like it, you can go drink Baileys from a shoe.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'll try and post an account of my week, and most likely a post about Halloween, but for now, I'm too lazy to do anything. And I'm enjoying being goaded by Italian Job on PS2. Fun -_-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-1215510215980912450?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/1215510215980912450/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=1215510215980912450' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/1215510215980912450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/1215510215980912450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009/11/sorreh.html' title='Sorreh.'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-5970620514014233286</id><published>2009-10-22T23:29:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-22T23:30:22.702+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Punch &amp; Judy Face.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/SuDc7y64cUI/AAAAAAAAAIo/N8ex1i5uOPk/s1600-h/Clip_28.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 140px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/SuDc7y64cUI/AAAAAAAAAIo/N8ex1i5uOPk/s400/Clip_28.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395555273428988226" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;You know I'm right.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-5970620514014233286?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/5970620514014233286/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=5970620514014233286' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/5970620514014233286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/5970620514014233286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009/10/punch-judy-face.html' title='Punch &amp; Judy Face.'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/SuDc7y64cUI/AAAAAAAAAIo/N8ex1i5uOPk/s72-c/Clip_28.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-2867259220307845459</id><published>2009-10-22T22:23:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-22T23:28:58.982+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Question.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;How many Fuckers In A Suit does it take to change a lightbulb?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One. Kevin Bacon.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-2867259220307845459?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/2867259220307845459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=2867259220307845459' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/2867259220307845459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/2867259220307845459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009/10/how-many-fuckers-in-suit-does-it-take.html' title='Question.'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-4789332808818388475</id><published>2009-10-22T21:43:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-22T21:45:20.539+01:00</updated><title type='text'>The Voice</title><content type='html'>D'you like my college magazine propaganda?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/SuDEOcrWg0I/AAAAAAAAAIg/suIKVoiwHd4/s1600-h/TheVoice001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 226px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/SuDEOcrWg0I/AAAAAAAAAIg/suIKVoiwHd4/s320/TheVoice001.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395528106085090114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Spectacular, no?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-4789332808818388475?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/4789332808818388475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=4789332808818388475' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/4789332808818388475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/4789332808818388475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009/10/voice.html' title='The Voice'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/SuDEOcrWg0I/AAAAAAAAAIg/suIKVoiwHd4/s72-c/TheVoice001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-5490548186765310735</id><published>2009-10-22T14:32:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-22T14:35:03.842+01:00</updated><title type='text'>My Print Credit</title><content type='html'>Is £8.50. Considering this is only the first half term of the college year, and I started off with £20, that's a lot of printing. Blame Lozz, for printing centuries of pictures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-5490548186765310735?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/5490548186765310735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=5490548186765310735' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/5490548186765310735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/5490548186765310735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009/10/my-print-credit.html' title='My Print Credit'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-5540907143163663017</id><published>2009-10-21T20:13:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-21T20:17:37.639+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Hmm.</title><content type='html'>Fucking boo. The My Passion gig was ace (I'll do a proper post about that when I can be arsed) but that's really the only thing that's stood out so far.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh, I had a job interview for the college library today. Scoff all you want, but I'll be earning more in 3 hours than I do for a whole week on my paper round, so STFU. As it turns out, Michael from my English class also had an interview. We had English before our interviews, so we were having a war over who'd get it, and then if we both get it (somehow), we'd be like the Good Cop/Bad Cop of the library, me being the former. Won't know until tomorrow whether I've got it or not, so keep your fingers crossed for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-5540907143163663017?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/5540907143163663017/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=5540907143163663017' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/5540907143163663017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/5540907143163663017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009/10/hmm.html' title='Hmm.'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-6520829560933424206</id><published>2009-10-16T17:30:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-16T17:43:50.274+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Not Much</title><content type='html'>Weirdest sense of deja vu just before I started typing. I went to type what I was thinking, and then went "Hang on, haven't I done this before?" Turns out I haven't.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sorry for the lack of updates this week; nothing particularly interesting has happened. A few things here and there, but overall this week has been boring.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'ma list the 'interesting' aspects:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Mel wasn't in for English on Wednesday. We were in a religion room with several arguments written on the board. Ryan, Mallory &amp;amp; I had fun desecrating most of them. Dumbledore was crucified because Voldemort wrote the bible. Betcha didn't know that.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Lozz half-filled her bottle, announced it looked like anti-freeze and proceeded to pour it in a nearby bin.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I realised that Tramp is the most useless teacher ever. She went to a computer that wasn't on, and wiggled the mouse to try and wake it up. When she'd finished with the projector, she turned the PC monitor off to try and get rid of the projector image from the board. I have a technological dipshit for English.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In other news, Laurence Rene has decided to completely ignore my offer for mini-golf. I wouldn't mind if he said no, at least it would be an answer. But to just completely brush it off, I'm sorry Lau, it's just plain rude. Never mind, I'll just beat him... sorry, ask Kayleigh to beat him for me in 2 days. Well I won't be able to do it, will I?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-6520829560933424206?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/6520829560933424206/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=6520829560933424206' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/6520829560933424206'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/6520829560933424206'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009/10/not-much.html' title='Not Much'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-8812062873879452356</id><published>2009-10-12T18:55:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-12T19:31:35.328+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Fuckin' 'ell.</title><content type='html'>Another run in with Pigeon today. Lozz, Kayleigh and I were just sat at GB, when guess what? The fucking coward dropped two plastic cups of water from the top floor. And he missed. I like how he doesn't have whatever reproductive organs a male pigeon has to actually do anything within reach. Of anyone. Always from the other side of the fucking globe. &lt;div&gt;Although, he showed he had at least some sort of backbone by verbally abusing us ON HIS OWN. I would say I'm proud of him, but I'd be lying. And I'd probably have to murder myself for saying so. However, he only said it on passing, and continued to walk away.&lt;br /&gt;We decided that, actually, we aren't going to put up with his bird shit any longer. We stormed to Nige's class (he was teaching at the time) and had to wait for millenia for him to finally come talk to us. Thankfully, he didn't just say 'Oh, talk to Duncan Webster.' like the useless man did last time. I think he could see how distraught Kayleigh was. We traipsed through Student Services and back through to the English block. As luck would have it, we saw Pigeon, gazing out the window which he so wishes he could lick. Lozz did a really obvious "It's him." for Nigel. Bird-face was oblivious due to the headphones he had in. Probably listening to the mating calls of other birds. And, as it turns out, Ron actually teaches the fucker. And because Kayleigh and Lozz were in his lesson, they explained everything with some help from me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As they were signing something (not entirely sure), Hayley and I were stood outside talking, when, lo and fucking behold, there he was. I don't think he noticed me, because he went into his class without fuss. Because he was on his own. Shock bloody horror.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Whilst Kayleigh, Lozz and Hayley were in their lessons, I went to the library to fill in an application form for a vacancy they have (remind me to finish that off.) and, you're never going to believe this, in HE swaggers. WHY AM I SEEING HIM EVERYWHERE!? I DON'T WANT HIS BIRD AIDS! Anywhore, I'm sat there, and in my misfortune, he finds a 'friend' on the table opposite me. He slams down his folder so it reverberates through the library and then says "What the fuck you lookin' at?" to someone who'd obviously heard the sonic boom he created. What a cunt. He must've seen me at some point, because I heard him slagging me off to this poor person he'd decided to terrorise. I know it was me, because I heard the words 'ginger emo'. Well done, like I haven't heard that before. I think he thinks I'm offended by it. I'm ginger. I dress in the emo style. GET OVER IT. I could've sworn he said something about 'battering' me outside college. I honestly wish I'd said to him "If you're going to threaten me, do it to my face." and then recorded what he said. I had my MP3 player, which records sound quite clearly. Why don't I think on my feet? FFS. At least then, we'd have hard evidence against him, as well as witnesses from GB.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Also, I couldn't help but notice that his new haircut (which, by the way, is appalling) makes his head look really tiny. I had to laugh on the inside. Oh, wattacock.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-8812062873879452356?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/8812062873879452356/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=8812062873879452356' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/8812062873879452356'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/8812062873879452356'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009/10/fuckin-ell.html' title='Fuckin&apos; &apos;ell.'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-8485576612847593966</id><published>2009-10-11T11:07:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-11T11:21:28.626+01:00</updated><title type='text'>FUCKING A!</title><content type='html'>Bravo to My Passion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You may have read &lt;a href="http://shygirlslose.blogspot.com/2009/10/youtube-assholes.html"&gt;Kayleigh's rant about 'evanescencerawks'&lt;/a&gt;, and how she literally spoke shit about My Passion on the video to Day of the Bees, and she got a huge abount of backlash for it. Safe to say it kind of escalated, and, upon looking this morning, I found this:&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StGwwU5bZpI/AAAAAAAAAH8/24s1W_7p9Qk/s1600-h/Clip_27.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 139px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StGwwU5bZpI/AAAAAAAAAH8/24s1W_7p9Qk/s400/Clip_27.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391284573228983954" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think it's great how My Passion came up with a legitimate reason for deleting this shitbag's nonsensical argument.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF0000;"&gt;7 DAYS 'TIL THE THEKLA! &lt;33&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-8485576612847593966?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/8485576612847593966/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=8485576612847593966' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/8485576612847593966'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/8485576612847593966'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009/10/fucking.html' title='FUCKING A!'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StGwwU5bZpI/AAAAAAAAAH8/24s1W_7p9Qk/s72-c/Clip_27.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-619058263810430456</id><published>2009-10-10T19:56:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-10T19:57:28.351+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Surprise Surprise</title><content type='html'>Mum's out at work, and Adolf has taken it upon himself to cook tea. Well, I say cook...&lt;br /&gt;We had pizza, because it's the only damn thing he can be bothered to make.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-619058263810430456?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/619058263810430456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=619058263810430456' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/619058263810430456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/619058263810430456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009/10/surprise-surprise.html' title='Surprise Surprise'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-6593369978294045252</id><published>2009-10-10T16:26:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-10T16:31:25.237+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Feck.</title><content type='html'>You may recall in one of my holiday blogs (&lt;a href="http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009_08_01_archive.html"&gt;Monday 17th August&lt;/a&gt;) that I said Adolf may be being made redundant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess what? Yes, although he's still on contract for 10 weeks, Adolf has no job. Fuck.&lt;br /&gt;He was given £400 to go spend on a suit for interviews from a friend. He was supposed to be sorting out his cv this weekend. So far, he's spent it playing Age of bloody Empires.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-6593369978294045252?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/6593369978294045252/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=6593369978294045252' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/6593369978294045252'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/6593369978294045252'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009/10/feck.html' title='Feck.'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-6411467913465056547</id><published>2009-10-08T18:45:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T09:48:18.439+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Jailhouse Rock</title><content type='html'>Kayleigh got her letter in Kerrang!, which is good times. She was especially pleased that it came with a picture of Gustav. And then she proceeded to shred the magazine, stripping it of all the good bits. And massacring the bad bits. Thank god it didn't have Bert McCracken in it.&lt;div&gt;Throwing spare change/empty bottles/anything at Mullinz should be everyone's favourite pastime. It kept Lozz, Kayleigh and I happy, even if we hit a few bystanders. Sorry bout that. Lozz and Kayleigh were talking about True Blood and were saying how a character strangled a hooker to death, and Mullinz retorted with "Yeah, but so did that man in Ipswich." Cue hysteria.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After my lesson, I couldn't find anyone, so I walked to Walcot and got myself some lunch, as well as the latest Top Gear mag. Got back to college, sat down to read the mag, and in the 'Feedback' section, I found MY letter had been printed! Oh happy days!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Met Kayleigh after her media lesson, although I saw her walk into GB, and say "Where's Mo? What a midget!". From where I was standing, it sounded like she said 'what a pigeon'...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On the walk to town, we revisited Kayleigh's idea of buying a prison and letting everyone out. Then she went on to say how she's make it a hotel-cum-rock venue. The mess hall would be the actual venue, and the cells would be accomodation, albeit slightly more comfy, and without the fear of having a big black man named Bubba going "You my little puppy now!" Oh yes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-6411467913465056547?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/6411467913465056547/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=6411467913465056547' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/6411467913465056547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/6411467913465056547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009/10/jailhouse-rock.html' title='Jailhouse Rock'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-744789839984703679</id><published>2009-10-06T17:57:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T18:03:47.587+01:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm So 'Ungry</title><content type='html'>This is beyond desperation. It's about survoival.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I find it weird how Pez doesn't bully me unless Kayleigh and Lozz are around... Hmm, intriguing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ro's a fat kid. He's never not hungry, y'see. We established this when I accompanied him to get another toasted panini. I had to make do with a 'savoury cheese' bap. That had some onion in. Not that I'm complaining, it's just the wrapping doesn't mention onion.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Communication with Dave was alright. Watched an episode of The Mighty Boosh (my first ever, and 'The Nightmare of Milky Joe' for those interested) for the majority of it. English wasn't bad, had a few laughs, didn't do much in the way of work. Just like usual then.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bus surfing was fun. Some guy was wearing a mac with contour lines on. Kayleigh noticed this and said "Sorry, Map!" Quite hilaire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-744789839984703679?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/744789839984703679/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=744789839984703679' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/744789839984703679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/744789839984703679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009/10/im-so-ungry.html' title='I&apos;m So &apos;Ungry'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-1290091126087249012</id><published>2009-10-05T18:09:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-05T18:13:36.278+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Nice Car</title><content type='html'>Due to some fault of some driver, our precious Swedish tank of a Volvo has had to go in for repairs :( The passenger side door creaks when opened, and the headlight is buggered. So, whilst that's getting fixed, we have a courtesy car, in the form of a Daihatsu Sirion. Despite the name, the car really isn't interesting. It's a silly, base model hatchback from Japan. Which means it should be interesting. Boo.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;P.S: Nothing really happened today, except Kayleigh made Debby go and take a chlamydia test, just so she could have a pink sperm keyring. She's called it John Be the Tadpole.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-1290091126087249012?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/1290091126087249012/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=1290091126087249012' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/1290091126087249012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/1290091126087249012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009/10/nice-car.html' title='Nice Car'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-8686208815359168803</id><published>2009-10-05T10:02:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-05T10:13:21.109+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Wordpress? Nah, I'll Stick With Blogger.</title><content type='html'>Sat here in Journalism, looking at 25 things to future-proof your career. Number one is to start a blog. Okay, I have. Had one for about a year (although you'd be surprised by the frankly pathetic number of updates. My bad.) and apparently, some of the top journalists have a blog. I wonder if Clarkson has one...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blogger isn't the best one to use, apparently. Wordpress is recommended, as is Posterous. They're all the same to me, really. Yes, some of them may have options for fancy layouts and such, but really, isn't blogging about what your write, not how it looks?&lt;br /&gt;I don't see the point in making another blog, simply based on reputation or user friendly ness. Not when I have a perfectly functioning Blogspot. Ta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-8686208815359168803?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/8686208815359168803/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=8686208815359168803' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/8686208815359168803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/8686208815359168803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009/10/wordpress-nah-ill-stick-with-blogger.html' title='Wordpress? Nah, I&apos;ll Stick With Blogger.'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-3357642715546534816</id><published>2009-10-03T18:09:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-03T19:20:38.151+01:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm not saying I believe...</title><content type='html'>...in this horoscope-esque fate destiny shit, but I took a "How good will tomorrow be" quiz thing on Facebook yesterday. I would show you, but it would appear I was sceptical and decided to not post it. Anyway, the result I got was 12%. See my cynicism?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12% seemed about right. I had to do both mine and Liz's round as payback for her covering for me yesterday. Mine went off without a hitch. Liz's, however, went a little pear shaped. I'm not entirely sure what happened, but somehow I flew off the bike. I sensed the bike falling down, and so leapt from the saddle, arms outstretched in front of me. I felt like a less spectacular superman. The outcome of my flight? Scuffed up hands, a battered knee and a hole in my skinnies. Yeah, I was not best pleased. Some woman was in her car, and saw everything. She leaned out the window and asked "Are you alright?" She noticed I was checking myself over and said "Only a few grazes?" I said "Yeah, I've had worse." She had no idea how serious I was.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After my incident, I got home and, lo and behold, it started raining. Brilliant. I wanted to sit down for a bit, but Liz badgered me to get off and out into town.&lt;br /&gt;The bus journey was awful. Some stupid Chav was playing noise from his phone at an unnecessary volume, and there was a group of people behind us talking too loud. I really hated that. Especially since I had a foggy head and just felt generally miserable. I reckon it was the rain.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The day eventually perked up though :D I love my town days with Liz; we always have barrels of laughs. I almost walked into Spack Legs, which was funny. I turned around, saw her and went "UGH!" really loudly. Liz found this hilarious.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I could go into massive massive detail, but I'm not going to lie to you: I can't be bothered :)&lt;br /&gt;So until next time...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-3357642715546534816?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/3357642715546534816/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=3357642715546534816' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/3357642715546534816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/3357642715546534816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009/10/im-not-saying-i-believe.html' title='I&apos;m not saying I believe...'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-3487293361217677201</id><published>2009-10-03T18:02:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-03T18:07:53.945+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Aaah shit.</title><content type='html'>What a fucking slacker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I gravely and humbly apologise for the horrid horrid lack of updates. Even if no one actually reads this. Ever.&lt;div&gt;Still, if I attempt to regularly update this, I can add 'blogging' as an interest to my cv. Which can help if you're wanting to be a journalist.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know I've said this before, but I actually, properly mean it this time: I promise to update more. Hopefully then I'll get some sort of readership, and make this whole blogging worthwhile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-3487293361217677201?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/3487293361217677201/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=3487293361217677201' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/3487293361217677201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/3487293361217677201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009/10/aaah-shit.html' title='Aaah shit.'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-7256227741499164016</id><published>2009-09-15T22:08:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-09-15T22:13:59.244+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Fuckin'...</title><content type='html'>...make sure you enter The Lost Boys 2: The Tribe Cry Little Sister contest. Why can't I fuckin' say that, what a fuckin' idiot!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Not much interesting happened today. The grebs and indies causing congestion in college are giving me multiple bees in my bonnet. They piss me off something chronic, let me tell you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bus ride home was a fucking nightmare. There was some bint who had her arm wrapped a pole with a bell on, and kept pressing the bell. She didn't realise; she was in a world of her own thanks to her earphones. The worst thing was, the bus driver told me and Ash to stop dinging the bell. We were all "It's not fucking us! We grew out of that when we were 10!" And because the driver had accused us, everyone on the bus felt it be acceptable to glare at us accusingly. Just because we were teenagers sat near the back. FML.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In Middleaze, after Ash had left, another guy got off and as the bus drove past him, he felt it necessary to glare at me some more. I hate people so damn much.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-7256227741499164016?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/7256227741499164016/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=7256227741499164016' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/7256227741499164016'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/7256227741499164016'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009/09/fuckin.html' title='Fuckin&apos;...'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-6150314562242719790</id><published>2009-09-12T19:51:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-09-12T20:35:01.444+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Youth Festival</title><content type='html'>Oh good gravy, how hilarious. It was better than I expected it to be, but it was still crap. What does that say about my expectations? xD&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When we got there, we were given some silly neck band information things and had to sign something that was alarmingly alike a register. I noticed that everyone previously had put their ethnicity as 'british'. I broke from the norm and wrote 'english'.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wow, the actual thing was pathetic. Not much interesting stuff around, and loads and loads of grebs milling around. Gave me something to laugh at :D Oh, and I obliterated Hayley and Liz at 'I Win'. Today's bright sun just exacerbated the blinding orange.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I saw Tony (vomits profusely) and his sleeve tattoos just look like he's painted his arm in ink. No real imagery to it at all. Whatacock.&lt;br /&gt;I went to this one stand where you had to sort different people into 'Gay', 'Lesbian', 'Bisexual' and 'Transexual' catergories. I proceeded to stick all of them in the Transexual area. There wasn't enough room for all of them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I played the Lying Down game alot today. One of my biggest achievments was when I run onto a breakdancing mat and played it. With dancers on. Thank god for Hayley's camera. One frizzy haired dancer didn't approve. Apparently he was glaring at me. Oh well, he'll live.&lt;br /&gt;Liz saw some of her friends sat in a line, and I played in front of them. They all had no clue what I was doing, which was fun.&lt;br /&gt;I laid on a fence where people frequently walked past, and I heard one girl saying "He's playing the Lying Down game!" It's spreading.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hayley popped her LDG cherry :D Albeit behind peoples backs, but she played nonetheless! Liz was boring and refused to play. Boo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We were watching a band of 8 year olds (they were actually 13, but looked pre-10) play, and the drummer looked way older than the rest of them, like 20-odd. When they'd finished their set, some reggae playlist came on as the transition between them and another band went on. Liz desperately wanted to leave, and blurted out "I'll turn Rastafarian if I stay here for too long!" I cracked up, but I don't think Hayley heard it. She missed out.&lt;br /&gt;The next band came on, introduced their new singer, and then proceeded to belch down the microphone. I was tempted to go to the front of the stage, wait for them to finish a song, and then point and laugh at them. They were appalling, but I didn't follow my temptation through.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We saw Debby, and she said her professional camera had died. Hayley offered her pocket one, but Debby declined.&lt;br /&gt;I stole a t-shirt too :D Well, more looted, because it was in a pile of hobo clothes. It was one I wanted, so I took it. Don't worry, I'll wash it seventy billion times so it's clean :D &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I tried it on earlier, and it's a blatent girl fit. It doesn't look that great on either, but that all changes when I put my black braces on. Now to get some white skinnies...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-6150314562242719790?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/6150314562242719790/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=6150314562242719790' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/6150314562242719790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/6150314562242719790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009/09/youth-festival.html' title='Youth Festival'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-8944931506618745838</id><published>2009-08-30T17:18:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-08-30T17:22:01.718+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Back from Welshland</title><content type='html'>I am indeed back. Bet none of you missed me.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Holiday blogs will be up shortly (mainly when I can be arsed to type them up)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the mean time, going to see William Control in September and My Passion in October. Bam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-8944931506618745838?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/8944931506618745838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=8944931506618745838' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/8944931506618745838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/8944931506618745838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009/08/back-from-welshland.html' title='Back from Welshland'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-5413184199258597937</id><published>2009-08-21T21:56:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-08-30T22:23:32.226+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Friday 21st August</title><content type='html'>4 o bloody clock. That's the time I woke up this morning. And the wierd thing is, Kayleigh was awake at the same time (oh, Facebook Mobile, how I love thee). I told her this, and she said we were 'mind twins'. Bam.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Adolf's life from hereon in is 'quiet'. Quite how he can spend 4 days straight in a poxy caravan is beyond me. Mind you, this is Adolf we're talking about.&lt;br /&gt;So, 'twas another Madre and Liz day. We went to Clandidno for the day The morning weather was atrocious (to the point where Liz and I camped out in the washing up shelter because it was so bad) but thankfully, it cleared up.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The day turned out nice in the end. It's just a shame we spent it shopping. We did eat lunch near the sea front though, and that was good. Except we were harrassed by a seagull. I dealt with it though, so we're still alive. Bloody scavengers.&lt;br /&gt;Whilst in Clandidno, Liz and I devised a new 'dance' move. It's called the Sonic and you basically stick your arms out behind you whilst running on the spot. You end up looking... well a bit of a tit, actually, but the aim was to look like a less blue Sonic the Hedgehog. Lame, eh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-5413184199258597937?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/5413184199258597937/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=5413184199258597937' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/5413184199258597937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/5413184199258597937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009/08/friday-21st-august.html' title='Friday 21st August'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-2583856756662783125</id><published>2009-08-20T21:14:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-08-30T21:55:36.151+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Thursday 20th August</title><content type='html'>What a bloody awful night. I spent most of it awake thanks to the wind and rain. Adverse weather + canvas = unnecessarily loud. At least it had stopped by morning. Ish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I swear if Adolf has another quiet day, I'll make his life quiet. Grr.&lt;br /&gt;Consequently, did basically bugger all today. Went to the tearoom by the river where I had a ice cream milkshake -drools- Madre took us on the Llanrwst (Clanroost) Town Trail which was fairly uninteresting. Got some chips out of it though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MONSTER RIPPER IS HORRIFICALLY OVERPRICED! Common or garden Monster = £1.41 Ripper = £1.7bloody7. Does 50% fruit juics really warrant a 36p price hike? I don't think so. Somerfield, stop being cunts and sell Ripper for the same price as ordinary Monster.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"&gt;p.s Adolf just TOLD Liz and I how to have our coffees in future. I love that man soooo much...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-2583856756662783125?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/2583856756662783125/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=2583856756662783125' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/2583856756662783125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/2583856756662783125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009/08/thursday-20th-august.html' title='Thursday 20th August'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-5173574053456147965</id><published>2009-08-19T20:36:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-08-30T21:12:47.494+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Wednesday 19th August</title><content type='html'>Huzzah! The Welsh weather has finally made its prescence known! Albeit halfway through the day, but our weather luck ran out, nonetheless. I suspect it may have something to do with the fact I texted Kayleigh saying it was tropical this morning...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adolf had another quiet day. Yes, the idea of having no job to back to is daunting, but for god sake, don't let it ruin the holiday. Sod.&lt;div&gt;So it was another Madre and Liz day. No bad thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We headed off for Betws-y-Coed (Betoos-ah-Koid) and managed to get round 3 shops before the heavens opened. And I didn't even have my hoobie with me. Cocksocks. At least it remained nothing more than drizzle, so I wasn't too drowned.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Kayleigh informed me about a picture of Gus in Kerrang! "It really captures the clearness of his eyes!" she texted. She's bloody right. Possibly the best picture of Gustav ever. Pretty cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'VE FOUND MONSTER IN WALES! Technically, it was Liz who found it, but it's still Monster. And it's the Ripper variety &lt;3 Me favourite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-5173574053456147965?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/5173574053456147965/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=5173574053456147965' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/5173574053456147965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/5173574053456147965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009/08/wednesday-19th-august.html' title='Wednesday 19th August'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-967848373804621156</id><published>2009-08-18T19:56:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-08-30T21:14:00.871+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Tuesday 18th August</title><content type='html'>Everyone's been a bit miserable due to the news from yesterday. Adolf so much so that he spent all day moping about in the caravan. Rather than be bored to buggery in a fibreglass box, Madre, Liz and myself all went on a mountain hike.&lt;br /&gt;We've had good luck weather wise this year. Clear blue sky, sunny, warm. Fucking a. The weather only highlighted the beauty of North Wales. Spectacular isn't the word.&lt;br /&gt;After climbing the mountain ("Screw these hills!" wailed Liz), we stopped to have some lunch in a clearing. Whilst we were doing this, I noticed some interesting ruins in the distance. Turns out it was an old mill that was only used for 6 years. It's been abandoned for, as near as makes no difference, 100 years. I was so desperate for a closer look, I dragged the other two halfway back down the mountain so I could, only to be seperated from it by some bastard river. The forest surrounding us, blocking my view wasn't much help either. I begged and pleaded Madre to let me try and cross the river but she was a total and complete killjoy and said no. So I worked with what I got and got some shots.&lt;div&gt;From then on, I was a bit moody (yes, I was sulking) but you'd understand if you saw it. Pictures don't do it justice.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We got to another ruin of what seemed to be an old cottage or two, made entirely out of slate. We reckoned they were old miners homes, a hypothesis later backed up by a near by mine entrance. "Short walk to work" I remarked, "Nice too." as I observed the scenery.&lt;br /&gt;The walk from then on was a little dull if I'm honest. I reckon people should do it the reverse we did, so they don't get dissappointed.&lt;br /&gt;On the home leg, Madre took us on a ridiculous detour. "It'll only take 25 minutes!" she squawked. 25 minutes later, we were nowhere near where we needed to be. An hour later, we were back. My feet are still hurting now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;p.s I swear Wales has banned Monster. Cannot find the bastard drink ANYWHERE.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-967848373804621156?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/967848373804621156/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=967848373804621156' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/967848373804621156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/967848373804621156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009/08/tuesday-18th-august.html' title='Tuesday 18th August'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-5854531451545357889</id><published>2009-08-17T19:54:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-08-30T19:56:07.965+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Monday 17th August</title><content type='html'>Went to Chester today, but none of that seems important now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adolf had a phone call earlier today, and he might be being made redundant. If this happens, it's likely we'll lose the house. Bollocks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-5854531451545357889?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/5854531451545357889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=5854531451545357889' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/5854531451545357889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/5854531451545357889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009/08/monday-17th-august.html' title='Monday 17th August'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-3266794060520078581</id><published>2009-08-16T17:51:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-08-30T19:41:04.271+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunday 16th August</title><content type='html'>Went to Clandidno for the day, in un-Welsh weather. It's plesantly warm so far this year (but then this is the second day... am I speaking too soon?). And people say global warming is a bad thing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Liz and myself wandered off on our own to go shopping, and I obliterated her at 'I Win'. Plenty of them, let me tell you that.&lt;br /&gt;We found HMV and Liz, being the Disney fanatic she is, was appalled they didn't have Demi Lovato's newest album in stock. "Demi who?" they say (or so I'd like to think.)&lt;br /&gt;We then found a dingy little place called 'Meradith's Alternatives'. I'll let your imagination decide what they specialise in. What I will tell you though is that the prices are extortinate. Fancy a belt buckle? You'll need to part with £14.99, which is more expensive than some belts on the market. If that's not daylight robbery, I don't know what is. Disgusted, Liz and I left with the pier firmly in our sights.&lt;br /&gt;Ah, the pier. Full of arcade machines; a few familiars such as Air Hockey (a particular favourite of Liz and mine. I won) and some new ones, including a Guitar Hero arcade machine... Pretty Handsome Awkward and Almost Easy are fun to play, even if I opted for medium difficulty.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The best part of the day though, was when we were in ASDA. Liz and I saw a kid sucking a lolly. Fairly unremarkable at first, but we saw him again, only this time in tears and lollyless. As we got to the end of the aisle, we saw the aforementioned lolly on the floor. As we neared, we saw a little girl walk over to the lolly, pick it up and then DUST IT OFF. Liz and I looked on in horror and amusement, saying "No, we know where that's been, put it down!" Gotta love child innocence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-3266794060520078581?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/3266794060520078581/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=3266794060520078581' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/3266794060520078581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/3266794060520078581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009/08/sunday-16th-august.html' title='Sunday 16th August'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-7400527615231366029</id><published>2009-08-15T17:26:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-08-30T17:51:02.008+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Saturday 15th August</title><content type='html'>Ouch, my bottom. Sitting on it, in the same place, for 4 hours isn't kind, even if the Volvo does have leather seats.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We got up at half 3 in the morning today. We normally do this, and, in the past, I have fallen back to sleep. Not this year. For reasons unbeknownst to me, I stayed wide awake for the whole 200-odd mile journey. Gay.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As the flatline of England erupted into the hills and valleys of Wales, I noticed something strange. Wales, as we know, is traditionally grey and wet. So you can imagine my surprise when it was clear and bright. Sunny, in laymans terms. In awe, I stared for what seemed an eternity. The bright blue sky slowly darkened to tungsten grey and then the inevitable happened. It rained. Y'know that saying that goes 'If it looks too good to be true, it probably is'? Yeah.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We eventually got to the site where we would be spending the next two weeks. It was still raining. Since we couldn't put the awning up, we ventured into Llandudno (pronounced Clan-did-no) for some breakfast, and in the hope the rain would subside. We found a pub that had acoustics that would make the Wyvern theatre weep. Admittedly, it was a converted theatre we went to, but impressive nonetheless.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;By this time, it was about 11am (we'd been in Wales for about 3 hours), but the number of people drinking beggared belief (and by 'drinking', I mean alcoholic drinks). Everywhere you looked  there were people holding glasses of beer/lager/piss. And in the midst of it all, there we were drinking coffee (bar Adolf, who doesn't drink hot drinks. At all. Wierdo)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Got back to the site, and the rain had almost stopped- it was half-arsed drizzle, so we just stuck the awning up anyway. Oh, how I love being a caravanist.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-7400527615231366029?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/7400527615231366029/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=7400527615231366029' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/7400527615231366029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/7400527615231366029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009/08/saturday-15th-august.html' title='Saturday 15th August'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-3464120750249266180</id><published>2009-08-13T21:56:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2009-08-13T22:04:40.844+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Slacker</title><content type='html'>Oh dear. Last update: 4th August. And even then it wasn't that interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would say I'll start blogging again, but there's a snag with that plan- I'm in Wales for two weeks as of Saturday. So I'm gonna take a leaf out of Kayleigh's book, and blog about my holiday when I get back. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I'll see you all when I get back. Oh, and please bear in mind that it's Wales, so don't expect anything too glitzy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-3464120750249266180?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/3464120750249266180/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=3464120750249266180' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/3464120750249266180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/3464120750249266180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009/08/slacker.html' title='Slacker'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-2843716614718291968</id><published>2009-08-04T21:49:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-08-04T21:55:23.207+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Motivation</title><content type='html'>After having an insight into the &lt;a href="http://shygirlslose.blogspot.com/2009/07/shiny.html"&gt;fonts of Kayleigh Control&lt;/a&gt;, I decided to pay a visit to the site where she gets her fonts from and downloaded a few that I like the look of...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/SnifU3eliyI/AAAAAAAAAGs/atU_JAaAijI/s1600-h/Fonts1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/SnifU3eliyI/AAAAAAAAAGs/atU_JAaAijI/s400/Fonts1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366214136850385698" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Like Kayleigh, I have written down the names of the fonts in case you wanted to &lt;a href="http://dafont.com/"&gt;download them.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With regards to the last font, I have an idea for a picture edit I want to do using it some way. I'm totally free tomorrow, so I'll see if can be bothered to do it. Considering the effort I put into my blog, chance are it won't happen at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-2843716614718291968?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/2843716614718291968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=2843716614718291968' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/2843716614718291968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/2843716614718291968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009/08/motivation.html' title='Motivation'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/SnifU3eliyI/AAAAAAAAAGs/atU_JAaAijI/s72-c/Fonts1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-557520257099488831</id><published>2009-07-28T22:38:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-07-31T22:03:19.178+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Frank's</title><content type='html'>So nothing about Young Guns. YET. But there will be, promise. I keep promising this, but I will do it. Chances are I won't though. For god's sake, someone make my mind up for me!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anywhore, Franks today. What a shambles getting there was ¬_¬ First, I got the bus from mine to town. I stuck the £1.10 in the machine and asked for a single.&lt;br /&gt;"To where?"&lt;br /&gt;"Town."&lt;br /&gt;"That's £1.70"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For fuck sake, really? All I want to do is get into town! It shouldn't cost me an arm and a leg to do so. So I got to town, and walked to Franks. Takes about an hour, in case you're thinking of doing the same.&lt;br /&gt;I got there, apologised for being late (by 45 minutes) to which Frank yawned. I think he was tired. We went to his room and laughed at Dirty Sanchez for a bit and then Frank showed me his NFS ProStreet skills. Mainly his drag skills. I had a go, and he was handily giving me guidance on how to do it right. He said he felt a bit like Jackie Stewart xD. The tips he were giving me were working a charm.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He then showed me his cars of NFS Undercover (an Audi TT, a Lotus Elise and a Merc CLS AMG) and I proceeded to trash the CLS. Sorry Frank.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Frank also got a parcel. I used my keys to slash the tape and unleash the contents. They were Frank's metallic silver and gold Nike id Cortez's. His reaction when he saw them? You could've scraped him of the ceiling, he was that ecstatic.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After cocking about on the PS3, and Frank marvelling at his shoes (which we established blew his multi coloured Nike's out of the water), we went to walk Fred round the lake whilst Frank tested his new shoes. As I shut the front door, Franks stared at me for ages. "We'll have to go for a -checks watch- 45 minute walk: I don't have my keys." -_-' Hence the decision to go around the lake. Every 5 minutes, Frank would stop and look at the bottom of his white soled Nike's. "Aww, they're dirty!" Frank, soles are supposed to get dirty. And the white accentuates the dirt. At least the silver didn't get harmed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We got to the shop to buy lunch (which were toasted cheese baguettes) and we bought Oreos and Jaffa Cakes too. The J Cakes were mine, but I left them behind -_-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After lunch we played 'Who Can Fly The Furthest' on GTA IV. Basically you walk up to a petrol station, pull out your shotgun and start blasting the pumps until they explode. You measure using defining features of the terrain such as railings and such. Was fun until I went on a crazy truck rampage, killing everything :D&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When Frank had to meet some people, we got to the bus stop outside his and I noticed someone had stuck an adult/kids day rider in the time table. I showed Frank and we discovered it was valid. We then hatched a completely outrageous plan that he was 16 and I was 15 and we'd use the day rider on the bus. It worked, despite the driver giving Frank a lecture on Citizenship cards. Free bus ride is worth the lecture I think, but then the driver did believe I was 15... I'm 17. FML.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-557520257099488831?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/557520257099488831/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=557520257099488831' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/557520257099488831'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/557520257099488831'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009/07/franks.html' title='Frank&apos;s'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-7297412576478120775</id><published>2009-07-26T20:08:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-07-26T20:30:34.704+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Damn it</title><content type='html'>I've been slacking again. I promised you a blog about Frank's on Tuesday. That blog never came. I deeply apologise.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's now Sunday, so I won't bother dragging up that day- too long ago. I am, however, hopefully going to Frank's this Tuesday. Apparently I'm to be educated in Dirty Sanchez xD and I can pass judgement on his cars on Need for Speed too. Sounds like fun.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Meanwhile, I went to see Young Guns on Thursday. Imma devote a complete entry to that night. If I can be bothered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-7297412576478120775?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/7297412576478120775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=7297412576478120775' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/7297412576478120775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/7297412576478120775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009/07/damn-it.html' title='Damn it'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-8571022791633265428</id><published>2009-07-21T22:45:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2009-07-21T22:46:47.554+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Hi, and Welcome Back</title><content type='html'>But tonight shall not be an update of todays events. That'll be tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, I have a dizzying headache, Mater's hair dryer and straightners are on the floor and Hayley and I are discussing depressing Scrubs episodes. Goodo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-8571022791633265428?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/8571022791633265428/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=8571022791633265428' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/8571022791633265428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/8571022791633265428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009/07/hi-and-welcome-back.html' title='Hi, and Welcome Back'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-8301673566743268104</id><published>2009-07-14T17:03:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2009-07-14T21:39:26.853+01:00</updated><title type='text'>War: What is it good for?</title><content type='html'>1/3 of a person per hour. Doesn't sound alot, but that's how many soldiers died recently in the worst 24 hours of the Afghan war. That's 8 people.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It really begs the question: what are we still fighting for? We went to Afghanistan way back in 2001 because big eared, idiotic grinned Tony Blair followed George W. Chimp's assumptions that WMD's were being hidden. There wasn't any evidence to suggest so, and therefore none were found. So why the hell are our troops still fighting out there 8 years later?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nearly every day we hear a story on the news about yet another UK troop dying, and for what cause? Can't think of one? Because there is no reason. People as young as 18 years old are dying for nothing. That, my friend, is no age to die, not when they had their whole life ahead of them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My heart goes out to all the families affected, even those with a family member not even in Afghan but are due to go soon. I won't even pretend to understand what they're going through; it must be so damn difficult to deal with. I'm the oldest in my family, so I don't have to worry about older brothers or sisters in the army but for those who have, let's just hope the fucking government see sense and pull every troop out of that place, and prevent more pointless deaths.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It may be cliched, but to those fighting for our country, I salute you. The word 'hero' doesn't even begin to describe you guys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-8301673566743268104?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/8301673566743268104/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=8301673566743268104' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/8301673566743268104'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/8301673566743268104'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009/07/war-what-is-it-good-for.html' title='War: What is it good for?'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-1547685970020229227</id><published>2009-07-13T17:42:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2009-07-13T17:52:15.145+01:00</updated><title type='text'>What the hull!?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;On Facebook, someone had posted a comment to a note left by Radio 1. It wasn't meaningful, it wasn't relevant, it was downright useless and idiotic. This person has posted "First to comment!!!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I really don't get the whole buzz about being the first to comment it. Big deal, you got there before anyone else did. Now read the damn thing you commented.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I commented the same note, airing my views on the insignificance of being the first comment, and upon checking it back, someone had replied. Said reply read "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;'coz it's fun;)"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;How boring is that persons life for them to say commenting things first is 'fun'. I'll tell you what is fun. Running through woods being pelted with paintballs and firing back is fun. Hurtling down a hill on a home made go kart is fun. Commenting something first and telling people (whom can see you've commented first, you don't need to tell them) is not.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-1547685970020229227?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/1547685970020229227/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=1547685970020229227' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/1547685970020229227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/1547685970020229227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009/07/what-hull.html' title='What the hull!?'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-630626037224127527</id><published>2009-07-10T22:19:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-07-10T22:33:11.988+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Naked.</title><content type='html'>I am. I had my hair hacked off today. And it's short. As in, short short. I hate it.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In other news, I'm trying to make plans for the summer rather than spend the entire holidays indoors. Public Enemies is on the menu, as is a Lydiard Day hopefully and maybe Transformers. Franks maybe a possibility too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Young Guns on the 23rd, hoohhh!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-630626037224127527?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/630626037224127527/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=630626037224127527' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/630626037224127527'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/630626037224127527'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009/07/naked.html' title='Naked.'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-4095148366777463477</id><published>2009-07-08T17:53:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-07-08T18:00:30.828+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Sick.</title><content type='html'>I've had a pounding headache for the most part of today. Life isn't fun when you're incapitated on the sofa. And I had to do my sisters round on top of mine.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I applied for a job at Maccy D's. I din't get it. Even Mc-fucking-Donalds don't want me. Fuck the economic balls up. Complete bullshit.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#33FF33;"&gt;For every cloud, there is a silver lining.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I bought my Young Guns ticket today, so that's good. More Gustav abuse, come the 23rd July :D&lt;br /&gt;And it's been announced AFI's new album lands in shops on the 29th September. I'm now listening to nothing but AFI because of this.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm making the rhubarb crumble I've promised myself tomorrow. Hopefully I won't destroy the house.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-4095148366777463477?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/4095148366777463477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=4095148366777463477' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/4095148366777463477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/4095148366777463477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009/07/sick.html' title='Sick.'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-2081548496004880707</id><published>2009-07-07T11:06:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-07-07T11:34:06.908+01:00</updated><title type='text'>My Life Is Over.</title><content type='html'>So I did another rehash of MyHeritage and it worked first time! Shock horror!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Two previous matches came up, but there was one I was fairly mortified by...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://74.54.64.26/Faces/Thumbnails/02/06/T7601_111_128.JPG"&gt;Dougie Poynter&lt;/a&gt; 68%, Mcfly bassist (previous).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://69.93.254.102/Faces/Thumbnails/02/28/T21728_96_128.JPG"&gt;Naomi Watts&lt;/a&gt; 64%, British-Australian actress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://74.54.64.20/Faces/Thumbnails/11/01/T249_96_128.JPG"&gt;Adriana Lima&lt;/a&gt; 61%, Brazilian supermodel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://69.93.254.103/Faces/Thumbnails/09/09/T18454_100_128.JPG"&gt;Lev Vygotsky&lt;/a&gt; 57%, Belarusan Jewish developmental psychologist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://69.93.254.106/Faces/Thumbnails/13/13/T13188_102_128.JPG"&gt;Jared Padalecki&lt;/a&gt; 57%, American actor (previous).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://74.54.64.26/Faces/Thumbnails/06/21/T23364_96_128.JPG"&gt;Paulina Porizkova&lt;/a&gt; 54%, Czech model and actress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://69.93.254.102/Faces/Thumbnails/15/08/T2395_96_128.JPG"&gt;Ashley Ti&lt;s&gt;t&lt;/s&gt;sdale&lt;/a&gt; 54%, American &lt;s&gt;Disney bint&lt;/s&gt; actress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://74.54.64.20/Faces/Thumbnails/02/09/T3419_94_128.JPG"&gt;Billy Ocean&lt;/a&gt; 52%, British-based musician.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://69.93.254.103/Faces/Thumbnails/01/11/T4506_96_128.JPG"&gt;Carol Burnett&lt;/a&gt; 52%, American comedian, actress, singer, dancer and writer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://69.93.254.102/Faces/Thumbnails/05/12/T30826_96_128.JPG"&gt;Yundi Li&lt;/a&gt; 51%, Chinese classical pianist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can you see why my life is over?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-2081548496004880707?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/2081548496004880707/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=2081548496004880707' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/2081548496004880707'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/2081548496004880707'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009/07/my-life-is-over.html' title='My Life Is Over.'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-7325718402926775673</id><published>2009-07-06T21:25:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-07-07T10:30:32.818+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Fuck Public Transport</title><content type='html'>Babysat for one of Ma'am's work colleagues today. Only about an hour, but the kid still managed to get crisps all over the floor -_-&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After clearing that up and waiting for the weather to stop being wet so I could do my round, I had to get the bus up to college for an appointment I had with the careers advisor. I heard the bus trundle past, so I whipped my shoes on, didn't bother to lace them up, ran out the house, saw the bus idling at the stop, sprinted towards it and I swear the driver saw me. Despite this, the doors closed and the bus started pulling off. I was about halfway up the bus at this point, but the driver still sped off. I yelled at the bus "CUNT!" and muttered "Fuck public transport." I was very annoyed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The sooner I get a car or something, the better.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-7325718402926775673?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/7325718402926775673/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=7325718402926775673' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/7325718402926775673'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/7325718402926775673'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009/07/fuck-public-transport.html' title='Fuck Public Transport'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-8638683646681367906</id><published>2009-07-05T16:19:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-07-05T16:20:10.044+01:00</updated><title type='text'>AUGH!</title><content type='html'>My chair broke. It collapsed like an accordian beneath me.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's alright, I'm ok. You can stop worrying.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-8638683646681367906?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/8638683646681367906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=8638683646681367906' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/8638683646681367906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/8638683646681367906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009/07/augh.html' title='AUGH!'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-5798168991457792631</id><published>2009-07-04T22:52:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2009-07-04T23:27:16.497+01:00</updated><title type='text'>No, really, MyHeritage IS bullshit.</title><content type='html'>After reading &lt;a href="http://shygirlslose.blogspot.com/2009/07/myheritage-is-bullshit.html"&gt;Kayleigh's blog about MyHeritage&lt;/a&gt;, I decided I'd try and see who my celebrity lookalikes are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I would if MyHeritage would actually pick out the face in the pictures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/Sk_QNZ5OJfI/AAAAAAAAAGA/WJ8KhnA7MHM/s1600-h/DSC03295.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/Sk_QNZ5OJfI/AAAAAAAAAGA/WJ8KhnA7MHM/s400/DSC03295.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354727410674574834" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's a perfectly acceptable picture of my face, is it not? MyHeritage is being a dickbag, saying "No face was detected." I didn't know internet sites could be blind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, I found a picture that MH finally found a face in, and apparently I look like:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://weblogs.dailypress.com/entertainment/music/pop/blog/rodStewart[1].jpg"&gt;Rod Stewart&lt;/a&gt; - 75% (Ageing rock star)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.exposay.com/celebrity-photos/drake-bell-2006-mtv-movie-awards-arrivals-1CpUiX.jpg"&gt;Drake Bell&lt;/a&gt; - 75% (Star of Disney's 'Drake &amp;amp; Josh')&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://20.img.v4.skyrock.net/206/boys-mcfly/pics/1126125432_small.jpg"&gt;Dougie Poynter&lt;/a&gt; - 74% (Bassist of McFly)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://us.movies1.yimg.com/movies.yahoo.com/images/hv/photo/movie_pix/paramount_pictures/lemony_snicket_s_a_series_of_unfortunate_events/liam_aiken/snicketpred.jpg"&gt;Liam Aiken&lt;/a&gt; - 74% (Klaus from Lemony Snicket's Series of Unfortunate Events)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://popularbiographies.files.wordpress.com/2008/05/9550609662.jpg"&gt;Jesse McCartney&lt;/a&gt; - 74% (American Thinks-he-can-do-it-all)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://media.photobucket.com/image/misha%20omar/shamaziz/MishaOmar-Misha-00-Pic.jpg"&gt;Misha Omar&lt;/a&gt; - 71% (Malaysian singer-actress)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.ce.cn/entertainment/music/200708/31/W020070831357027799911.jpg"&gt;Jay Chou&lt;/a&gt; - 68% (Taiwanese musician/singer/actor)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://cache.daylife.com/imageserve/0d1AgAlbjUgZS/340x.jpg"&gt;Teddy Kollek&lt;/a&gt; - 67% (Former mayor of Jerusalem O_O)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://spike1988.blogdiario.com/img/SP1.JPG"&gt;Jared Padalecki&lt;/a&gt; - 66% (Wade in House of &lt;s&gt;Shit&lt;/s&gt; Wax)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.berlinista.com/storage/images/2008/morten-harket-2008.jpg"&gt;Morten Harket&lt;/a&gt; - 66% (lead singer of a-ha)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take on me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-5798168991457792631?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/5798168991457792631/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=5798168991457792631' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/5798168991457792631'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/5798168991457792631'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009/07/no-really-myheritage-is-bullshit.html' title='No, really, MyHeritage IS bullshit.'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/Sk_QNZ5OJfI/AAAAAAAAAGA/WJ8KhnA7MHM/s72-c/DSC03295.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-6996038438966746884</id><published>2009-07-03T09:55:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2009-07-03T10:02:25.111+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Bugger.</title><content type='html'>I assumed yesterday. The girl I was talking about yesterday DIDN'T get with Mr Bitch-a-lot. He just happened to have the same name. Sorry.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Listening to 'The Golden Hour' on The Chris Moyles Show. The second song they played? Friday I'm In Love by The motherfucking Cure&lt;3333&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Adolf's getting off my back now. Good. Things aren't as dark and gloomy as I painted yesterday, although the same can't be said for the decisively overcast sky. Better than Saharian heat. It was so hot last night, I was sweating in bed. I wasn't even doing anything!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All I need to do now is meet up with people. A week has been too long.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-6996038438966746884?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/6996038438966746884/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=6996038438966746884' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/6996038438966746884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/6996038438966746884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009/07/bugger.html' title='Bugger.'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-580353643377719303</id><published>2009-07-02T10:15:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2009-07-02T10:41:44.287+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Fuck My Life</title><content type='html'>Sorry for the distinct lack of updates recently. Nothing interesting has happened AT ALL in the past week, so there's little point in telling everyone about shit.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Technically, I shouldn't be updating now. Adolf has been on my back like a dog on heat at the moment. What for? Looking at university related information, even though he's ademant we can't send me. So I'm sat here wasting my time really. He's making my life absolute hell at the minute. He's even TOLD me to get a haircut. At first, he said "You can choose the style as long as it's out your eyes." So I flicked through Kerrang! and found a good picture of Jacoby Shaddix and I fell in love with his hair. My new style. I tell him I have a haircut booked, and he adds a specification on the list: "These bits [the sides] have to get sorted as well." I show him the picture of 'Coby, and he says "Not acceptable, choose another style." How about I just get my whole head shaved, will that do, SIR?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And you know what really gets up my nose? When he calls me his 'son'. One day, Imma tell him "You can call me your son when you start treating me like it. Not one of your fucking employees."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And as it turns out, someone who I thought I had a chance with (that's the main vibe I got from them) has recently got together with someone who has done nothing but put her down and slag her off.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Life is shit at the moment.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-580353643377719303?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/580353643377719303/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=580353643377719303' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/580353643377719303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/580353643377719303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009/07/fuck-my-life.html' title='Fuck My Life'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-660408616076259784</id><published>2009-06-26T11:56:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-06-26T11:56:33.864+01:00</updated><title type='text'>"IS IT SUSAN BOYLE!?"</title><content type='html'>No, Clarkson. It's Micheal Jackson, quite obviously.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-660408616076259784?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/660408616076259784/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=660408616076259784' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/660408616076259784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/660408616076259784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009/06/is-it-susan-boyle.html' title='&quot;IS IT SUSAN BOYLE!?&quot;'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-8038306869928011862</id><published>2009-06-22T17:12:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T17:15:16.943+01:00</updated><title type='text'>"Nothing happens!"</title><content type='html'>Saw Sarah today, for the first time in years. She kicked me. Kayleigh and I started talking about MMCR and just quoted Steve Hughes over and over.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Watched The Truman Show in Comms.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tried watching Top Gear on iPlayer at college. It ultimately failed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Went into town with Kayleigh and Hayley.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Came home and watched Top Gear on the tv.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-8038306869928011862?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/8038306869928011862/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=8038306869928011862' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/8038306869928011862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/8038306869928011862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009/06/nothing-happens.html' title='&quot;Nothing happens!&quot;'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-2109577509340816069</id><published>2009-06-21T22:16:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-06-21T22:17:43.215+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Fuck off</title><content type='html'>Adolf just waltzed in, announcing "I'm putting my watch in your window to charge." My window was oopen so I obviously had to close it. As he leaves, he turns and says "And don't open your window whilst my watch is there without thinking."&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He needs to give me more credibility, he really does.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "&gt;Mo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-2109577509340816069?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/2109577509340816069/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=2109577509340816069' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/2109577509340816069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/2109577509340816069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009/06/fuck-off.html' title='Fuck off'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-4150123550188333919</id><published>2009-06-21T21:59:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2009-06-21T22:14:22.186+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Disney Bint</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;SATURDAY:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div&gt;Went into town with Liz, primarily to get Dad and Adolf something for Father's Day. First place we went was Peacocks, where we managed to get Dads FD present- a Dangermouse t-shirt. We then did a bit of browsing (I can't remember the ins and outs) and I got myself some Skullcandy headphones which are bloody epic. I also got Liz a CD by an artist she likes. Heard of Demi Lovato? Neither had I. Apparently she was in Camp Rock. Yes, she's a Disney Bint, just like Miley Cyrus. But anyway, I got myself a purehmv reward card. I took a look at some of the rewards and was amazed and depressed by what I saw. Signed 'Dead Set' script? Amazing. Pair of VIP tickets for Reading fest? Depressing- I have to spend £550 in the next couple of months inorder to get enough points. Ain't gonna happen. I forgot what else we did in town.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After we came home, did some stuff, ate tea and then watched Micheal McIntyre's Comedy Roadshow. That man is brilliant. No other way to describe him. Although just as the show started, I had a phone call. I told them I was watching MMCR and they asked the most horrific questions ever- "Who's Micheal McIntyre?" I was speechless.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;SUNDAY:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A complete day of doing bugger all. I would've watched the F1, but as I sat down to do so, Adolf said "I'll record it, because I'm going to put a film on." I came down lan hour later only to find bloody Star Trek Voyager on Virgin 1. If he didn't want me to watch it, he should've just bloody said. So instead I cut the grass, had a shower, had tea (sat down too late to watch the new Top Gear start- got it recorded. Ah, Sky +) and now sat here doing... well bugger all really.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tomorrow I really need to start that english we were given 2 weeks to do...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-4150123550188333919?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/4150123550188333919/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=4150123550188333919' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/4150123550188333919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/4150123550188333919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009/06/disney-bint.html' title='Disney Bint'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-577546394294749836</id><published>2009-06-19T18:09:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-06-19T18:14:31.916+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear Lord.</title><content type='html'>What a wierd morning. I woke up after having a dream featuring Tash. Wasn't an indepth experience, she was just there, talking to her her friend who kept giving me dirty looks. I hate her, so can someone please explain her prescence?&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nothing really interesting happened today. Before English I was just pissing about on photoshop and that's really the only thing worth writing about. Besides me leaving my headphones in college (again), spilling coke on my white t-shirt and Dad giving me a guilt trip, though I think it's more a misunderstanding. It'll get sorted.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-577546394294749836?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/577546394294749836/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=577546394294749836' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/577546394294749836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/577546394294749836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009/06/dear-lord.html' title='Dear Lord.'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-4280264461124328701</id><published>2009-06-18T21:45:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2009-06-18T22:26:58.540+01:00</updated><title type='text'>"Irene's curry was lovely."</title><content type='html'>Because I had the bare-faced cheek to buy myself some lunch before hopping on the bus to college, I missed the said bus. I literally got round the corner to see it's indicator winking at me as it pulled off. Fucksake.&lt;div&gt;So I got the 1A, and got to F.Way to see Kayleigh in the queue for the 13. I got off, walked through the underpass, got to the 13/14 stope where, you guessed it, the bus had gone. Twice in a row. Not going well.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I got off at college to get a text from Lozz saying her and Kayleigh were going into town. I quickly went in to see if I could find them but to no avail. I did, however, have a nice chat with Dulcie, so that was good. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Not wanting to rely on pubic (sorry, public) transport any further, I decided to walk into town. I partly did this because I though it was a possibility I could catch Lozz and Kayleigh up, but at no point did I see them. Ah well, that's my excercise for the week.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I went into WHSmith to get some credit, and then texted Lozz suggesting we meet up. We rendevouzed at Blue Banana. Yes, Blue Banana Man was working.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lozz and Kayleigh came in, and BBM literally pounced on Kayleigh, exclaiming "I love your eyelashes!" Seriously, pretty much all the staff in there were facinated by her rainbow lashes. I bought Lozz a necklace she wanted, since I still owed her a birthday present. From January. At least she's got it now. And she told me she'd magically obtained £100 that she had to spend. Yes, HAD.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She whipped out her list and we went to Swin City first, to get some US beverages. And then we went to Bodycare to get Lozz some hairdye (Note to self: Buy hairdye.) and then scurried onto Primark. Where Lozz spent £23. On 3 pairs of shoes, some 'jammies, sunglasses (2 pairs- one was for Kayleigh) and other things. And we established that we had to back to college fairly sharpish, so I quickly whipped in to Argos to get some batteries.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In Media, Laura totally embarrassed me by showing everyone my appaling youtube videos. I really need to take them off. She can say she found them hilarious all she wants, they're CRAP. We then had to go take pictures for an anti-drug campaign poster. We just told Maxine to lie in a bush looking passed out. Tomorrow I'm posing with 'cocaine' (flour/sugar, not decided which yet)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Afterwards, Kayleigh, Frank, Bunny and I hung around outside the college gates for a while, making a nuisance of ourselves. Frank was bothering Kayleigh alot by throwing her around, and then Ben Lee showed up. He still hasn't shaved. Lozz came out with Alice, and when I was scalding Ben by saying "That's not real facial hair!", Lozz asked what wasn't realy facial hair. I pointed to Ben, she burst out laughing. Priceless. Irene then walked out and Frank asked to have dinner with her. They walked off together. Really. We were then just talking about usless stuff for a while and Frank reappeared. As he did, he proclaimed "Irene's curry was lovely. I ate it then I ate her out." None of us were particuarly surprised.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-4280264461124328701?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/4280264461124328701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=4280264461124328701' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/4280264461124328701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/4280264461124328701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009/06/irenes-curry-was-lovely.html' title='&quot;Irene&apos;s curry was lovely.&quot;'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-7223752811993382912</id><published>2009-06-17T18:37:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-06-17T18:39:21.468+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Hair loss.</title><content type='html'>Just noticed on my Cool Wall magnets (Top Gear mag decided to do a second lot, including those in the first lot) that of all the presenters, Captain Slow and Hammond have got more hair than in the first installment, whereas Clarkson has considerably less.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bless 'im.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-7223752811993382912?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/7223752811993382912/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=7223752811993382912' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/7223752811993382912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/7223752811993382912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009/06/hair-loss.html' title='Hair loss.'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-8134273691508237649</id><published>2009-06-17T17:39:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2009-06-17T18:09:21.992+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Rainbow Lashes</title><content type='html'>First off, thanks Liz, for waking me up at twenty to eight. Thanks a lot. Mind you, I did say I was going to be up at half seven...&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My day didn't &lt;i&gt;really&lt;/i&gt; start until about lunch time. I was sat in the foyer eating my lunch when Mike went over to look at the exam board. All of a sudden, one of the exhibition walls came crashing down. And Mike was the prime suspect. Everyone who I was sat with burst out laughing and applauded. It was hilarious.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Kayleigh turned up, and told about her cataclysmic new myspace layout. She just HAD to show me when I said I hadn't seen it. So we toddled off to the library so she could show me. And boy, is it HOT. I suggest you go look at it RIGHT NOW- &lt;a href="http://myspace.com/kayleighpuget" target="_blank"&gt;LOOK AT THE &lt;s&gt;SHINY SHINY&lt;/s&gt; MYSPACE LAYOUT&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After this, we bussed to town where our first stop was Greggs. We then sat at the big screen for a while, bitching about the wind and people. It's how we roll. I noticed Muller were distibuting pots of Muller Rice, so I nabbed a few. I was hungry, alright? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We went to stalk Blue Banana Man again. Although this time we just passed, and we noticed he was wearing a sack hat. Kayleigh was again in love.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;At some point we went to New Look to browse. We established that the bright coloured tacky produce was the Yam Section and the bright shiny silver produce was the Nick Wiggins Section. Yes, really. Kayleigh found a nice black and white scarf and some clips to buy with her voucher, and she also spied some spectacular fake rainbow eyelashes. I bought them for her. I spoil her, I really do.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On the bus home, I saw someone lose their hat in the wind and chasing after it. I had to hold in my laughter. And, crossing the road with red traffics lights whicch I'd just pressed, this woman scuttled across the road as if they weren't working. They're on red long enough for you to walk, y'know.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-8134273691508237649?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/8134273691508237649/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=8134273691508237649' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/8134273691508237649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/8134273691508237649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009/06/rainbow-lashes.html' title='Rainbow Lashes'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-9170362822379533059</id><published>2009-06-17T17:30:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-06-17T17:33:35.529+01:00</updated><title type='text'>CONGRATULATIONS MA!</title><content type='html'>Mum applied for a job way back in May, and didn't hear anything until a couple of weeks ago when she was offered an interview. She went and after a couple of days, had heard nothing back. Being the chronic pessimist she is, she was ademant that she didn't have the job. She's just informed me that she got a phone call telling her she is now a Nurse Auxilary.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well done, Mum. You deserve it. &lt;3&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-9170362822379533059?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/9170362822379533059/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=9170362822379533059' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/9170362822379533059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/9170362822379533059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009/06/congratulations-ma.html' title='CONGRATULATIONS MA!'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-7557484506888842558</id><published>2009-06-16T20:41:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T22:25:46.452+01:00</updated><title type='text'>"I'm in love!"</title><content type='html'>Fuck. I get into college (the foyer currently looks like a rat maze with pictures an sculptures- fine art exhibition y'see) and suddenly realise my english lesson isn't taking place. So I'm in college, at 8.40, and my next lesson is at 1 pm. Great.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, I have 4 hours to kill. How do I kill them? By joining Ellie in her media lesson. Shame I take media myself so Una recognised me ¬_¬ Ah well, was all good fun going on Facebook and watching Dr Wig and The Shrimp Shack Shooters. Yes. Lozz came in half an hour late and unveiled her breakfast- a can of Monster, with Monster Ripper for afters. Ver' naice.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;During the break, we bumped into Kayleigh. Because Lozz had been assigned a task to create an advertising poster for anti-bullying/drugs, she decided to use Kayeligh as a model, as she does with all her photography. We went out to the back of the college near the kitchens where most of the rubbish is left, and Kayleigh used some of Lozz's make up to create track marks. She also used Gus' hoodie string as a prop. Knew it would come in handy. We then went back to Una. Well I say 'we', I was ditched -_- I later found them again and they told me they'd gone to get food. But not before Lozz taught Kayleigh the piano intro to Welcome To The Black Parade.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My own media lesson was... fairly dull, actually. Media usually is.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After college, Kayleigh, Lozz and I walked into town. On the way, Lozz picked up a purple daisy and stuck it behind her ear. She then proceeded to pick both me and Kayleigh one and stuck them behind our ears. Please forgive me, but I said "I wish I was a punk rocker with flowers in my hair." I know, it was a god awful thing to do, and I'm sorry. Truly madly deeply.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We then got to Queens Park where we 'eurghed' at people for a bit, and witnessed an old man foraging in the bin. No, I'm not entirely sure either.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We then met Elliot who went back home to try and find his cheque. Whilst he did that, Kayleigh, Lozz and I wandered up to Blue Banana to see Blue Banana Fittie (from their point of view, I must stress) and he was there. We spent a good while in there, Lozz and Kay mostly drooling over BBF. Just as we were looking at the hair dye, these two guys approached us and asked us if we wanted to go see a gig. We weren't quite sure what to make us this, and Lozz asked for the name of the band. Ready for this? Two Toms, One Cup. Yes, they are parodying Two Girls. This put me off going to see them somewhat. Then Lozz told them that if they were slightly girlier, she may have considered it. They subsequently left. As they did, we discussed what we would do if they actually came back all girled up. It's because we're cool.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Elliot then came back and we sat outside gimmegizmo and eurghed at more people. Kayleigh wanted to see if Boy was working at Topshop, so we made the customary pass. As we did, a tall, skinny guy walked out, dressed in waistcoat and bow tie. Kayleigh saw him and immediately exclaimed "I'm in love!" We later established that the guy looked like one of Kayleigh's drawings come to life. From then on, Kayleigh kept whimpering "I wanna see Drawing Boy again." Can you blame her?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So yeah, just another day in the life of a douche :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-7557484506888842558?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/7557484506888842558/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=7557484506888842558' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/7557484506888842558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/7557484506888842558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009/06/im-in-love.html' title='&quot;I&apos;m in love!&quot;'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-8247148835015625649</id><published>2009-06-15T21:43:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2009-06-15T21:47:39.404+01:00</updated><title type='text'>FINALLY!</title><content type='html'>So I got my new tv on Friday, and this is the first chance I've got to use it. Adolf made me do a mass clearout of my ENTIRE room. Even now I'm not entirely sure why.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Still, 22 inches of televisual goodness. It's very wierd having something so big compared to being used to a piddly little shit screen for 6 years. Next thing to do is see how good my PS2 games look on it xD&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh, and from tomorrow, I'll actually be updating again! I can tell you're all very excited...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-8247148835015625649?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/8247148835015625649/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=8247148835015625649' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/8247148835015625649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/8247148835015625649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009/06/finally.html' title='FINALLY!'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-9105979055713053644</id><published>2009-06-12T13:21:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-06-12T13:23:43.839+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Fuuuuuuuhking hell.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Stupid sodding college internet seems to like travelling at a speed that makes snails look like world record beaters. Fucksake. Sooner I get my new teev, the better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-9105979055713053644?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/9105979055713053644/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=9105979055713053644' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/9105979055713053644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/9105979055713053644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009/06/fuuuuuuuhking-hell.html' title='Fuuuuuuuhking hell.'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-8237390153975553992</id><published>2009-06-10T14:28:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-06-10T14:40:10.273+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Er, hi?</title><content type='html'>Last published 16 December 2008. It's now June 2009. Heh...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will start uploading again, promise. Just after I upgrade my shitty 15" Samsung (which has no died) to a nice 22" LG. Bring the fire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MO&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-8237390153975553992?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/8237390153975553992/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=8237390153975553992' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/8237390153975553992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/8237390153975553992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2009/06/er-hi.html' title='Er, hi?'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-6212622450594475891</id><published>2008-12-15T21:09:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-12-16T11:30:51.637Z</updated><title type='text'>FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!</title><content type='html'>First thing on a Monday morning is not when you want 3 hours of Communication with Dave. Luckily though, all we did was watch Life of Brian. My first viewing of it ^^&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The, at the break, there was a fire drill. Cue moning from people whinging 'But it's cold!' It actually wasn't that cold. But yeah, everyone piled outside, staff dressed in Fire Marshal jackets. Really, if there was a fire, would they bother getting those jackets on? Didn't think so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lewis and I stood around waiting for Kayleigh so we could get into town. She finally showed and was saying goodbye to people when Impatient Lewis grabbed her by the waist and dragged her to the door. Kayleigh was annoyed, saying "I can't do anything with you around, can I Lewis?" Lewis said we were walking into town after Kayleigh asked if we were bussing it. Cue Kayleigh and I going "NO! Bus is quicker." Lewis said he had no money for the bus, so I brought out my wallet and gave him £2 for a dayrider.&lt;br /&gt;In town, he said goobye far too many times. Kayleigh and I made a bee line for Blue Banana, where a member of staff came over and said he had a massive headache and he didn't want to be there. I misheard him, thinking he said 'I really want a beer." Needless to say I just completely embarrassed myself. Kayleigh said I was an alcoholic and the guy replied "At least you've accepted you have a problem." We then went into Waterstones and saw an old guy with grey hair looking at the EROTICA section. Kayleigh and I looked at each other with the same expression. We then went to the 'Witty' section and had a flick through the books. Kayleigh glanced at a book, turned to me and said "Can I ask you a serious question? Do bats have bollocks?" I was like "what!?" She then showed me the book. She found a book called 'Living With An Emo Kid' which I bought her for Chrimbo. I saw a book that I really like the look of- 1001 Ridiculous Ways To Die.&lt;br /&gt;We were in the queue in WStones, and some old woman wlaks up to the counter and says "Excuse me, I need a diary and I can't find them." The staff at the counter turned and politely said "I'm actually serving someone at the minute, I'll be with you in a bit." The old woman was realy rude, stating "But I need a diary NOW!" I was like 'Alright!'&lt;br /&gt;When I was paying for the book, Kayleigh said "Look Mo, you're buying a book about yourself!" I was too busy paying to say anything back.&lt;br /&gt;I then said I needed to get home to do my round and so we walked to Fleming (ugh) Way where we said our goodbyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got home to find Adolf there for no reason. And he has a stupid rule of no shoes on the carpet, so I avoided going in further than the hall. Not once did I even poke my head round the door to say hi. That's what he gets for being a miserable dictator.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Media with Julian was.. different. All I did was mess about on Logic Express, making a tune out of various samples. If I say so myself, I think it's turned out pretty well. Not finished, but what's there is good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S I still haven't finished my room. ¬_¬&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-6212622450594475891?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/6212622450594475891/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=6212622450594475891' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/6212622450594475891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/6212622450594475891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2008/12/for-crying-out-loud.html' title='FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-6645414952052994009</id><published>2008-12-13T20:45:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-12-16T11:09:27.968Z</updated><title type='text'>Yeah, but it's just his face.</title><content type='html'>Today was amazin'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At first, I thought 'Ah shit.' as I looked out the window to be faced with sheets of rain. And I had to do both my own and my sister's paper rounds. Thank God it decided to stop as I went out xD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I went on to meet Hayley at hers so she could jazz up my hair. That worked well, so we wandered into town.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the bus there, we went past these two chavs who had 'parked' their car so badly it looked abandoned. Really. We also almost collided with a Saab, simply cos they pulled a gutsy move and the bus driver kept on going. Twas funn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In town, we were in Blue Banana when Ash and Kyle waltzed in. Kyle has grown his hair quite long and dyed it blonde. It looks... HHHHHHHHHORRIBLE! Hayley and I walked out and I said to Hayley "I really don't like Kyle's hair." She replies "Yeah, he needs to re-dye it." I said back "No, it's just the colour." And she just came out with "Yeah, but it's just his face." Apparently it was a case of verbal diahorrea. She meant it really. Either way, I just cracked up. She sounded so serious when she said it.&lt;br /&gt;Onto Zaavi, and we just basically walked through without looking at anything, and as we came out, all I heard was some guy walking in saying "Every shop I've been in, it just smells of POO!" And that was it. Hayley found it equally hilarious.&lt;br /&gt;We went to Woolworths to try and pick up some bargains. I managed to get my mum and Liz a cd each from there. Then we went to HMV where I got my dear papa a cd and myself a Deathnote DVD. I'm happy ^^&lt;br /&gt;By this time, we were both feeling hungry so we went on to MaccyD's for some grub. Before we went in, I looked at the giant screen to check the time- 14.25. I ordered our meals, paiud for them and we went upstairs to find some seats. On the table next to us were a bunch of kids desperately in need of some maturity. I just murmered to Hayley "There's a time and a place, and it's late at night in the gay bar." She had to hold back her laughter. Hayley then paid me back whilst we were eating, and we then left. Cue another look at the big screen for time- 14.55 We had spent HALF AN HOUR in McDonalds. I was astounded.&lt;br /&gt;We then went to get some hairspray for me and then went back to hers to use some. Hayley is a very good hair stylist. My hair looked frickin awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I went back home, had tea and was ordered by Adolf to basically empty my room and throw EVERYTHING away. I'm still not finished.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-6645414952052994009?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/6645414952052994009/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=6645414952052994009' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/6645414952052994009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/6645414952052994009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2008/12/yeah-but-its-just-his-face.html' title='Yeah, but it&apos;s just his face.'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-3608315569133860595</id><published>2008-12-06T20:10:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-12-06T20:16:28.058Z</updated><title type='text'>Ho hum</title><content type='html'>It would appear I haven't updated for a week again. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Woops&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least it wasn't like last time where I logged in to read the blogs I'm following and not bother to write my own. I seriously, haven't touched this website in a week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got my new PC on W&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;ednesday&lt;/span&gt; and lost all my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;MSN&lt;/span&gt; emoticons. And most of my music. Well, I say 'my' when it was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;harddrive&lt;/span&gt; of the entire music collection in the house. Now I just have my music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Been confined to my room today- going through it to try and throw out some detritus. I've managed to half the number of books on my shelf and make room for my Ferraris, so I guess I achieved something. Not much else happening though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S- Just been reading the blogs I've missed in my abscence and watched a video I took on Shygirlslose and it suddenly dawned on me- I HAVE A HHHHHHHHORRIBLE VOICE!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-3608315569133860595?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/3608315569133860595/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=3608315569133860595' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/3608315569133860595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/3608315569133860595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2008/12/ho-hum.html' title='Ho hum'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-5658075334295684566</id><published>2008-11-28T21:44:00.005Z</published><updated>2008-12-02T22:03:28.962Z</updated><title type='text'>"Don't worry, we're potential buyers."</title><content type='html'>I woke up REALLY late today, the latest I woken up on a Friday so far. Hey, it was nice ^^&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The day only really started after Crit Think finished and I sat with Kayleigh, Sarah and Freya. We were talking about Elara and her donkey-boyfriend. Whom she's never seen a picture of. Paedophilia?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soon after, Mullinz, Sarah, Kayleigh and I went on a wander around college and found 'Curry Corner'. I'll leave the rest to your imagination. Then we found a random empty corridor with fire doors at the end and Kayleigh asked "Do you think they'd say something if we opened those and pulled in a bed?" and we started saying how'd we'd transform the corridor into a nice living place and how, somehow, we'd end up painting the walls. As we left, Kayleigh turned to the people hanging around the stairwell next to aforementioned corridor and said "Don't worry, we're potential buyers.' and we just left. The poor souls must've been quite bewildered.&lt;br /&gt;We then went to the English staff room where Sarah went in for some reason. Whilst she was in there, Kayleigh, Mullinz and I ran for it. We sprinted down the corridor, sped through the Fuckchimp Arena and 'hid' under the stairs, panting and sniggering. She knew where we were. So we sat there for a while, just generally mucking about. Mullinz produced his phone and played 'Men In Black' theme and subsequently sent it to Kayleigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;English, and Pete said he was doing Form A's individually and said he wouldn't be in the room. Fast forward about an hour, and Joe's phone rings. Jardine (whose name is spelt with a Z, rather than J...) laughs for no reason. Me and Nia just turn to each other like "It's really not funny." Jardine, who seemed to be wearing footwear like that of slippers, noticed because she kept giving us dark looks. Ah well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were analysing these texts and one of them was about landscaping and architechture. I turned to Nia and said "What do you think the audience of this text is? Probably middle-aged men with combovers who have nothing better to do than position fountains and trees to convey a particular meaning." This quickly moved on to the subject of gardens, and having one INSIDE the house. You'd say to a visitor 'Would you like to see the garden?' and they'd say 'Sure.' where you'd take them upstairs to one of the bed rooms and open it revealing a lawn, patio and a pond. This moved on again to converting your living room to a tropical rainforest where you'd have Monkey Butlers. A pretty cliched idea, I know, but hey, whatcha gonna do?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-5658075334295684566?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/5658075334295684566/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=5658075334295684566' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/5658075334295684566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/5658075334295684566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2008/11/dont-worry-were-potential-buyers.html' title='&quot;Don&apos;t worry, we&apos;re potential buyers.&quot;'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-5288564519119118132</id><published>2008-11-24T21:47:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-11-24T22:04:14.202Z</updated><title type='text'>"Ethiopians Look a Bit Hungry.."</title><content type='html'>Is it funny to have a Thermos full of coffee in a lesson first thing Monday morning? Manda seemed to think it was. I told her "I like my coffee."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And why must nothing INTERESTING happen in my lessons? I suppose Luke did come in looking absolutely STONED out of his mind (half-open eyes, slow, rhythmic nodding) but besides that, the majority of the lesson was same as usual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Near the end, Dave went out for something and Lee took the clock and set it 10 minutes forward. Boy, are we wild. Still, it worked. And I said that I felt hungry, Anne-Marie said I looked hungry.&lt;br /&gt;Me: "How can you say someone &lt;em&gt;looks&lt;/em&gt; hungry?"&lt;br /&gt;Lee: "Dunno bout you, but I think Ethiopians look a bit hungry.."&lt;br /&gt;Me, Elena, Manda and Anne-Marie just cracked up, making Lee feel a bit guilty that he'd said such a thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really, that's the only thing that stood out for me today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mo's Life = Uninteresting and &lt;strong&gt;FAIL&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-5288564519119118132?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/5288564519119118132/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=5288564519119118132' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/5288564519119118132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/5288564519119118132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2008/11/ethiopians-look-bit-hungry.html' title='&quot;Ethiopians Look a Bit Hungry..&quot;'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-4952309717403052957</id><published>2008-11-15T17:09:00.003Z</published><updated>2008-11-15T17:23:33.514Z</updated><title type='text'>2009 Brabus Tesla Roadster</title><content type='html'>Tesla Roadster is an electric vehicle from America. And because it's electric, it makes no noise as it's moving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brabus have decided to take one, and play about with it.&lt;br /&gt;From this:&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/SR8EIPs5_uI/AAAAAAAAADw/gizf9bhj8To/s1600-h/NormalTesla.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268934628747116258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/SR8EIPs5_uI/AAAAAAAAADw/gizf9bhj8To/s400/NormalTesla.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To this:&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/SR8EIN3J0uI/AAAAAAAAAD4/aLiMcsc9sAk/s1600-h/BrabusTesla.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268934628253225698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/SR8EIN3J0uI/AAAAAAAAAD4/aLiMcsc9sAk/s400/BrabusTesla.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;(from Brabus press release) &lt;/strong&gt;'To give the sports car a more exciting sound the BRABUS electronics specialists have developed a ‘space sound generator.’ The occupants on-board the Tesla Roadsters can choose from several simulated engine sounds including that of a typical V8 combustion engine, a racecar engine and two futuristic soundscapes named ‘Beam’ and ‘Warp.’ The volume of the sound is dependent on the momentary power output of the electric motor.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry? Futuristic soundscapes? WHY? Imagine an OAP crossing the road and all they hear is 'Warp' coming at them. They'd think aliens are beaming them up! Don't get me wrong, I like the idea of having pre-set sounds but why make synthetic sounds? The 'typical' V8 engine and racecar engine sounds are a great idea - less blind people getting mowed down by electric vehicles - but to make sounds up? C'mon Brabus, you can do better than that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-4952309717403052957?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/4952309717403052957/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=4952309717403052957' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/4952309717403052957'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/4952309717403052957'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2008/11/2009-brabus-tesla-roadster.html' title='2009 Brabus Tesla Roadster'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/SR8EIPs5_uI/AAAAAAAAADw/gizf9bhj8To/s72-c/NormalTesla.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-2966426072598440293</id><published>2008-11-14T22:10:00.007Z</published><updated>2008-11-14T22:56:10.553Z</updated><title type='text'>Is it sad?</title><content type='html'>Every year around this time, I look forward to one event- the SEMA show in America.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;S&lt;/strong&gt;pecialist&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E&lt;/strong&gt;quipment&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;M&lt;/strong&gt;arkets&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A&lt;/strong&gt;ssociation&lt;br /&gt;for those who are wondering.&lt;br /&gt;Basically, car manufacturers and specialist firms take some vehicles and do wacky things with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My favourite has to be this Chevrolet Camaro Black. Just look at it. &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/SR36y2RnLSI/AAAAAAAAADI/ADA5nORheKc/s1600-h/CamaroBlackConcept1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268642890563136802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/SR36y2RnLSI/AAAAAAAAADI/ADA5nORheKc/s400/CamaroBlackConcept1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;How can you possibly say no to that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Stuck firmly in the 'Mad' section is the Toyota Yaris Club, brought to us from Five Axis Design.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/SR37uNWB4eI/AAAAAAAAADQ/2hzhxy3Viik/s1600-h/ToyotaYarisClub.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268643910367961570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/SR37uNWB4eI/AAAAAAAAADQ/2hzhxy3Viik/s400/ToyotaYarisClub.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Can you imagine doing your weekly shop in that? No. Can you imagine a racing grid full of them? Yes.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The prize for Most Pointless Piece of Shit goes to Boulevard Customs for producing the Mercedes-Benz GLK Urban Whip. Quite how you can describe a car as being a 'whip', I don't know. You'd have to ask Snoopy Doggy Dog or whatever his name is.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/SR39H1KXZeI/AAAAAAAAADY/jKUuSNExrcU/s1600-h/MercGLKUrbanWhip_BoulevardCustoms.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268645450064815586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/SR39H1KXZeI/AAAAAAAAADY/jKUuSNExrcU/s400/MercGLKUrbanWhip_BoulevardCustoms.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I think the less said about this atrocity, the better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;If you MUST want a Mercedes GLK for whatever reason, this is the one to go for:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/SR3-xgGiEGI/AAAAAAAAADg/zQFMvITRkcs/s1600-h/MercGLKPikesPeak_RENNtech.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268647265477726306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/SR3-xgGiEGI/AAAAAAAAADg/zQFMvITRkcs/s400/MercGLKPikesPeak_RENNtech.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;This is the Mercedes GLK Pikes Peak Racer from RENNtech. Yes, that is a massive rear wing on the back.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;If racing is your thing, then Chevrolet have the right car for you: another Camaro!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/SR3_mINR2BI/AAAAAAAAADo/NmOw7cmG134/s1600-h/CamaroGSRacecar.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268648169596639250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/SR3_mINR2BI/AAAAAAAAADo/NmOw7cmG134/s400/CamaroGSRacecar.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is the GS Racecar Concept. Please please PLEASE make this for a one-make race series Chevrolet. You know it makes sense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;That's just a small round-up of the stars that caught my eye, and now you all now how much of a car freak I am. Most of you will probably never touch this page again now.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-2966426072598440293?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/2966426072598440293/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=2966426072598440293' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/2966426072598440293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/2966426072598440293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2008/11/is-it-sad.html' title='Is it sad?'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/SR36y2RnLSI/AAAAAAAAADI/ADA5nORheKc/s72-c/CamaroBlackConcept1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-3478242834572347981</id><published>2008-11-14T21:21:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-11-14T22:09:23.310Z</updated><title type='text'>"I shall turn into a frog and spontaneously combust!"</title><content type='html'>I think my Friday's might follow the same pattern- get up, watch Top Gear, do paper round and go off to college.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got into college 20 minutes before my Crit Think lesson started and just sat around Gay Bay for that time. Not much happened.&lt;br /&gt;Nothing really happened in my lesson either, we just watched some Kilroy for no reason whatsoever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Would anything interesting happen in my lunch break then? Yes, actually. I wandered around aimlessly for about 20 minutes, and then adjorned to the library where I thumbed through NME. I got bored of that quite quickly, and I'd spotted Amber on her lonesome so I joined her one her 'Table of Lonliness'. Or so she called it. She told me she was swotting up on her maths after getting 54% on her last exam. But she pointed out that this was an improvement over her previous 52% score. Not much, but an improvement is an improvement.&lt;br /&gt;We then started playing game upon game of Noughts &amp;amp; Crosses. The majority of matches we played no-one won. BUT we got bored of this and decided to mess around, saying we'd won with crooked lines and then it turned into Who Could Block Off An O/X. I decided that the blocked off X could leap frog round the grid and Amber came out with "I shall turn into a frog and spontaneously combust!" which made no sense whatsoever.&lt;br /&gt;We then tried playing the Who Can Make A Square game (I have no idea if that's the actual name, but still...). Needless to say I failed miserably at that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;English, and... well it was the same as usual really. I do remember Jardine laughing WAY too much at something, but it must have been something really insignificant 'cos I'm buggered if I can remember.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad's over the weekend. Which means I'll have little or no computer access. However, Liz and I are being left to our own devices tomorrow night, so it should be ok.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-3478242834572347981?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/3478242834572347981/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=3478242834572347981' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/3478242834572347981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/3478242834572347981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2008/11/i-shall-turn-into-frog-and.html' title='&quot;I shall turn into a frog and spontaneously combust!&quot;'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-1618516259327521509</id><published>2008-11-11T20:10:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-11-11T20:21:14.784Z</updated><title type='text'>An Epic Time Wasted</title><content type='html'>College finished at 1 today, so what did I do with my afternoon off? Came home and stuffed my face whilst watching over a B-spec race I had going on GT4. What a sad existance I lead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wind the clocks back to the start of the day, I got up feeling ok. I went downstairs to grab some food before I got the bus to college and I felt slightly.. drunk. It's the only way I could describe it! I told mum this and said "Does this make me an alcoholic?" Mum replied with "Did you get up too quick?"&lt;br /&gt;"No, it's only since I've come downstairs."&lt;br /&gt;It was all very wierd.&lt;br /&gt;Later on the bus, I told Kayleigh the same thing and she too asked had I gotten up too quick. "No, I only felt like it when I got downstairs." She too was quite freaked by it. Then she told me and Laura how, after 2 weeks and 3 days of straight edge-ness she's begginning to feel the effects. Even so, I hope she can stick with it. Good luck Kayleigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;English with Mel was... well, the same as it usually is really. Why are all my lessons boring as shite? No need to answer Kayleigh, I know it already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the main Foyer at 11, we had a 2 minute silence that turned into 11 minutes. The actual silence was 2 minutes, but we had a trumpet played and then the choir sang for a bit and then more trumpet. Afterwards, I heard some guy say "Bring on the trumpets!" Milli was all "Oh my god, I'm never gonna get that 11 minutes back!" I have to say, I'm with her on this one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then me, Kayleigh, Lozz and Aaron sat on the floor for a while, me being abused like I usually am. After about an hour or so, Kayleigh and Lozz went off to the cinema together whilst I came home and- well you read the first paragraph.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's to a more interesting tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-1618516259327521509?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/1618516259327521509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=1618516259327521509' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/1618516259327521509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/1618516259327521509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2008/11/epic-time-wasted.html' title='An Epic Time Wasted'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3182463967957775266.post-50638757693407009</id><published>2008-11-10T21:59:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-11-11T15:01:09.126Z</updated><title type='text'>This Isn't A Pipe...</title><content type='html'>Waiting outside Dave's for what seemd like years, I turn to Manda and say "What would you do if Dave wasn't in and the lesson was cancelled?" She just looks at me and go "Martyn, don't say that! Now you've got me hoping that'll be the case." So Dave turns up and all Manda does is give me a disapproving look.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dave's lesson was the same as always- copying down a boring old slideshow. I may get lynched for this (I do most days anywiz) but I think Ron's lessons are more exciting. I think it maybe the disruption my little troupe cause.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anywiz, Dave brought up a picture of a pipe with the caption of 'Ceci n'est une pipe', which is french for this blogs title. Dave handily translated it for us and immediately after I blurted out "This is an M&amp;amp;S pipe." Is it bad that the only person who laughed is Dave?&lt;br /&gt;Also, we were asked to captionise some pictures, one of which was a picture of a naked man in public. I suggested "I know I've forgotten something..." and Dave said that's what he had imagined the caption to be as well. It's quite terrible, having the same sense of humour as your Comm &amp;amp; Cult teacher, is it not?&lt;br /&gt;Soon after, Anne-Marie asked Dave what his favourite band is, and he replied with Sonic Youth. He then went to ask our table (not the class, just OUR table) what our favourite bands are. My crap memory can't tell me what Manda's was, but Elena said Radiohead was one of her favourites. Dave agreed, moved onto me and I said AFI. He goes "Never heard of them." I told him to go and search them on Yout. I asked if he liked Rush at all and he said "Nah, they're too heavy metal for me." Rush are a prog rock band. Get it right Dave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During the break, nothing really happened besides me getting my jeans torn into shorts which look a MESS. I don't know why I let Jae and Emily do it. but what's done is done I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3182463967957775266-50638757693407009?l=manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/feeds/50638757693407009/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3182463967957775266&amp;postID=50638757693407009' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/50638757693407009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3182463967957775266/posts/default/50638757693407009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://manwhosefaceneverends.blogspot.com/2008/11/this-isnt-pipe.html' title='This Isn&apos;t A Pipe...'/><author><name>MoFiasco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17775316985585120530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UxvqiduKPUk/StC0C-MaQFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/F0H8TUqPESs/S220/DSC03306small+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
