MJRyder.net

How to Speak and Write Postmodern

In the midst of the dreary postmodernism coursework I've been wading my way through recently I accidentally stumbled across something of a gem.

D.I.Y.

I honestly wonder why I do it sometimes. You would think given my less-than-enjoyable experience painting the garden furtniture in my Nan's garden would have put me off for life, but no, it seems I just can't escape the dreaded D.I.Y.

I mean it's not that I don't like D.I.Y.

More madness from the woman who feeds frogs bread and lettuce...

As the summer drags on I thought I'd do my good deed yesterday and paint my Nan's garden frame for her.

Clocks

I've got to say I was initially going to write this blog as a sort of update of my current living situation, but having made one of my many regular visits to see my Nan the other day, I thought of a much better topic instead: clocks.

Tales from the 222

Buses seem to take quite a prominent role in my life at the moment what with all the buses that go past me when I'm walking to university, and the many late-night bus journies I take home from various nights in the union or out and about in Uxbridge.