Blimey, I guess I turned nerd enough to try writing a blog. I doubt anyone'll read this so I'm not quite sure why I'm bothering writing it. I guess I've got to the point where talking to myself is considered borderline mental. Maybe I am anyway. Who knows. Not that typing to myself is any different.. hmmn!

I've been thinking a lot about my 18th the past few days. My parents keep asking what I want to do for it, my reply is a constant "dunno". You're probably thinking typical emo teenager. I would too. But really, I have no clue whatsoever. I'd love a huge, loud, annoying-the-neighbours party. What almost 18yr old wouldn't? Plenty of alcohol, boys, friends and no parents.

But that'll never happen. How do I know? I don't even know anyone my age, nevermind my parents letting me have a "normal" 18th. No, I'll probably spend it like my 16th. Alone, in my room, with my parents downstairs cooking a typical Sunday roast. Bor-ring. I can't wait.

Oh well. Bring on my birthday. And my fourth driving test, which I'm destined to fail. Again.

I shall leave you with this:

If a dog has time to pray, so should we.