Good Intentions...

... not the Somerfield soft shite of course, it's rather me trying to find a non-sucidal lifestyle.

To keep a long story short, been marching on the lines for 48 hours which means another weekend without food or any other proper nutrition.

Moreover, Mr. Serious (we all remember Mr. Big, don't we, so yes, pun there we go) seems to be on a mission still and all the "not Mr. Right but Mr. Right Now" bore me to death (although the yells and text keep me entertained and it's still nice to know there's somebody interested, even if in a drink, a hug and a shag only).

Remember a mate telling me about the real meaning of life: "It's all about the chase, darling". He's very close me thinks, what's even more worrying I might start playing this game and I'll be well crap.