"Bring Me The Big Knife!"

Firstly, after great excitement about the emmigration of Sociopath Wanker from the corridor, he has now decided not to leave because he won't be here over Summer. Why/How can anyone be stupid enough not to realise this in the first place? What a massive gimp! Also, he and his girlfriend appear to have purchased a keyboard and have taken to playing it poorly... and trying to compose things, equally poorly.

Secondly, there is a new character to be added. She will be Psychomanipuliar! She is an evil bitch. Also a psycho stalker. Tiny Little Baby Feet seems to attract these people, somehow. ... I am not one of them. (Tiny Little Baby Feet: 'wtf do I do to deserve this? time, after time, after time?'). Remember people: sexual assault/stalking is never ok.

Exams = death. Along with everything else to do with exams: i.e. revision, learning, reading, essay planning, failing. Fringe Girl would like to add that oral exams = double death. Ugh. (Tiny Little Baby Feet feels that this would in fact mean life. She is WRONG!). The only things which make exams better are:
1) the popping of balloons in flight with a sharp knife.
2) the watching of Moonstruck and/or various comedy shows
3) Cake(not death, and not the fail cakes made by Tiny Little Baby Feet earlier this week - for future reference, jam in cake mix = fail. On the other hand, apple flavoured buttercream and marshmallow flavoured buttercream are epic wins!)
4) funny voices. Especially bad Russian accents.
5) Old Fashioned sweets. www.aquarterof.co.uk/www.cybercandy.co.uk - AMAZING!

Fringe Girl has observed from her revision that if she believed what textbooks showed Spanish people wearing, they would all be wearing hideous skirted suits from the eighties. This is not what they wear - methinks the illustrator could only draw women in bad suits. With equally bad hair. With the exception of Spanish novels, which don't frequently have illustrations. Tiny Little Baby Feet would like to make the point that if people looked like they did in Quentin Blake's illustrations of Roald Dahl people would look most peculiar and scruffy. AND have very silly shoes. Shoes should never be silly. EVER.

Welcome Back!!

The greatest welcome back from Easter was that Sociopath Wanker is moving out. This makes Tiny Little Baby Feet very happy - she fully intends to throw them a leaving party... except without inviting them. Crackhead has also moved out... noone noticed.

Over-Sensitive Girl tried to fuck us over by leaving the house for next year... this did not make us happy as we spent a whole day frantically scrabbling around to find a housemate to fill her space before she changed her mind yet a-fucking-gain! Why sign a contract if you're already having doubts?

Lately, we have become obsessed with Sims 3 (leading, of course, to very few lectures being attended). We created a Ground Floor, and also most of the housemates. Several have been set on fire already. Oopsy. Also, Whiney Mcwhinesalot's Boyfriend drowned in a tragic (cough) accident. He will be sadly missed. Or not.

In other news, Omegle.com is our new love, along with wicker. We don't fully understand where this obsession came from, all we know is wicker is an epic win. We even made a sim whose clothes were entirely made out of wicker. Foot on you, anyone? That is all.

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Hometime!

Fringe Girl here. Tiny Little Baby Feet has gone back to the land of families, home cooking, and dishwashers, and left me to blog by myself. I know, how cruel of her! The others are also slowly disappearing. Of the important ones, The Random Ugandan, Rarebit Biologist and Talksalot are leaving early tomorrow. Hippy Girl has already left, along with Whiney Mcwhinesalot. Salvador Dalí, who only realised that the Easter holidays started next week about four days ago (oh, I wonder what it'd be like to live in his world!) will probably drive down at some obscene time in the middle of the night.

So, there will be a lack of flatmate drama to write up in the coming weeks! Luckily we have a stash of stories to keep the reading several entertained while we are away from this place we call "The Ground Floor". And in three weeks we'll be back, snooping for fresh gossip!

Changes

Loud Mangirl moved out today, taking her nice cutlery with her. This will either mean an empty room for a couple of months, or, probably most likely, a new flatmate. This will be interesting, as this place has got pretty cliquey since we all moved in, and we've become like an extremely small (and pretty weird) village somewhere in the West Country that doesn't take kindly to strangers.

In other news, Whiney Mcwhinesalot has returned from a week at home and decided to blank all flatmates for no apparent reason. Hardly surprising, as before she left she posted a Facebook status declaring that we were all "a bunch of twats". This from a girl that complains that no one here likes her. She also accused Hamster Spurs of stealing her milk, and threatened to report him to the police (no, I'm serious!). Hamster Spurs is lactose intolerant. I think this is one for Gil Grissom and his trusty team, as, so far, the case remains open.

Earlier this week, The Random Ugandan got very drunk. This was very amusing. Did you know that Jesse Jackson was born in 1927 and invented the modern spoon? No, neither did we.

National Fail Week

Over the last week, Tiny Little Baby Feet and Fringe Girl have encountered a multitude of fails. So much so, that we have become convinced that we are, in fact, cursed. These fails started with Fringe Girl shutting the door on her own face (don't ask), and have worsened with the passing days. Not a single lecture has been attended by Fringe Girl during the week, though Tiny Little Baby Feet has attended ALL of her lectures (which also counts as a fail). Tonight, after spilling the contents of Fringe Girl's ashtray/glass on her floor (and there was a LOT of ash in there!), we managed to set it on fire. We do not know how this occurred. We cannot even begin to explain.

If this continues, we will need the name and number of a witch doctor. FAST.

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St. Patrick's Day

Flatmates pissed on our happy St Patrick's Day bonfire (figuratively, of course). We feel that we both have the right to celebrate it, as Tiny Little Baby Feet has a horrible St Patrick's Day last year (to the point that until 48 hours ago she was planning to curl up in a ball tonight), though she has now decided to embrace it and make it a fantastic night, and Fringe Girl has always felt strongly connected to her Irish heritage (Hi, mum and dad!). She even has an Irish last name. So, we are ignoring the cries of "Oh, it's just an excuse to get drunk!" and are treating it... As an excuse to get drunk.

In an escape from our bonfire-pissing friends, we went outside, and met with Weird Ian (who is both weird, and named Ian). He was also embracing the green, Celtic spririt... Weirdly. As is how he seems to do everything. We enjoy Weird Ian. He brightens our day!

Crackhead

Named Crackhead due to the ground floor's suspicions about the person behind the sudden appearance of 'Crackhead ' on the wall outside the rooms of Tiny Little Baby Feet and Fringe Girl. It was blatently her, for the win.
We don't see her much - some people are not sure if she even lives here, although, word on the street states that a boy left her room about a week ago. Presumably he was not there alone. That would be weird.

Her song is: The Shamen - Ebeneezer Goode