Sunday morning. Quiet, peaceful, serene. Dan and I are drinking coffee from my new coffee maker. Only the slight hum of a fish tank and the tapping of my laptop keys as I blog can be heard.

It has been busier and noisier in previous days. Only the previous morning, an attempt to make coffee ended in disaster. Firstly, my bedroom fridge which stores milk, fruit, Coca Cola and (to Simon and Dan’s disapproval), cans of lager beer, decided it would be funny to piss itself all over my carpet. Either that or it became defrosted due to being unplugged. An accident, possibly on my part.

That same morning, my new coffee machine decided it would try to commit suicide by blowing itself up. It failed, although scorching hot, black coffee did end up streaming down my fridge (which the coffee machine as resting on) and onto the carpet – just like a black waterfall of molten lava.

In my attempt stop the emergency, I became very badly burnt. Dan became very angry due to the fact his coffee was delayed. I did suggest he suck the coffee from the shag of my sodden carpet and clothes, but he declined – fussy bastard.

Yesterday afternoon was also eventful. Mr. White, everyone’s favourite village drunkard, came to see Dan and myself. He was rather perturbed to see us playing various retro videogames, but after being threatened with various weapons I had lying around, he agreed to complete the whole of Lemmings for our enjoyment. If you are interested in seeing the various torture methods used on Mr. White, check out Dan’s blog. Maybe you too know a drunkard that you can use these methods on.

Everything comes at a cost though. Mr. White always wants more. He comes to my flat, eats my food, drinks my drink, shits in my toilet and this time… get this… he wanted to use MY electricity to charge his mobile phone! I don’t think that it would be too harsh to call him a cheeky cunt.

Reluctantly, I agreed to let Mr. White use my electricity to charge his mobile telephone, although warned him that should the charger be left behind, as it has on previous occasions, it will be donated to Oxfam.

Well Mr. White, after you left, I found your charger. If you want it back, I suggest taking a trip to the Bath branch of Oxfam. I believe they are only selling it for £1.50.

Dan and I did inform Mr. White of this, by leaving him a message on MSN. He ignored it and only took notice at 1am, on his return from a typical nights boozing. Upon logging into my MSN this morning, I was greeted my the following note:

Jono sent 19/11/2006 01:06:
what pics ? and wtf oxfam ?>
Jono sent 19/11/2006 01:09:
ive left my charger at yours again ?

Bless him. He sounds very confused. That’s what 10 pints of Stella does to you kids.

If incidentally, anybody else is reading this blog and needs a new mobile phone charger, the offer is not exclusively available to Mr. White, so why not pay Oxfam a visit and buy it before he does.