(This journal entry isn't mirrored, because.... well it's a bit shit really)

Well, that was weird.

England hardly ever gets earthquakes, let alone ones you can actually feel. It happened at about 12:55am last night. I’d just got to bed after spending the evening working on an EPIC, EUPHORIA-SOAKED trance anthem (more to come on this soon, folks) and chatting to *mascaraxglass about the merits of sushi cupcakes. I was just nodding off to sleep when I heard the geese that live by the lake in the park. They started honking really loudly. I didn’t think much of it. Then about a minute later my bed starts moving of its own accord. I was like It was definitely moving. There wasn’t any sound though and I was getting jiggled around, a bit like when you’re asleep on a ferry in rough waters. At first I thought my stoned flatmate Dan was banging on the wall or doing something stoned - but there wasn’t any noise and that wouldn’t make my bed move like it was. I sat up. It carried on moving for a few more seconds. I felt like there was an animal inside my bed (no I’m not talking about me ladies, RAWR) shaking it around. I thought perhaps my Fella plushie had woken up, climbed inside my mattress and was shaking it around. After around five to ten seconds it stopped.

I lay there (is that correct English? I was always taught the term ‘lay’ is for objects or animals and not people, anyway….) for a few seconds thinking about it. I wondered if I had made it up in my head or if it actually happened. Of course the thought that it was an earthquake crossed my mind. But seeing as they’re so rare here, and that I never expected to experienced one in London I dismissed that and thought it more likely it was a figment of my imagination. I was a bit confused so I put the radio on, and sure enough the dude on Five Live said they had just received about 50 texts. I got out of bed to see if my stoned flatmate Dan had felt it. He hadn’t. He was being stoned in the hallway. I told him about it. He didn’t believe me so I left him to continue with the stonedness.

Apparently the epicentre was about 125 miles north of London near a shithole called Kingston-Upon-Hull. It measured 5.2 on the Richter scale and could be felt all over the country. Fittingly for England, even Mother Nature is polite and well mannered. The latest reports suggest the casualty count consists of one old man in Barnsley who hurt his leg. Apparently a few chimneys collapsed too.






<sub>This week I recommend:
1. lolcats
2. Nexus
3. Coffee

This week I do not recommend:
1. Sushi
2. Not using the shower rest



April</sub>