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

Regular readers of my journal will know that I live with two old mates in a messy flat in a leafy suburb of South London. The rent is reasonable and despite the constant mess it's great to live with two good friends who, for the purposes of this journal, I'll refer to as 'Roomy A' and 'Roomy B'.

Some of you may remember my story of Roomy B's shocking and underhand use of my shower gel and toothpaste and the subsequent Post-It note I left in my tub of Clover margarine (that resulted in some of you labeling me as ' passive aggressive', remind me to leave you a note to tell you to stfu ). What I haven't told you is that Roomy A and Roomy B are big fans of smoking. And I don't mean cigarettes. I mean the green, the ganja, the joint, weed, draw, spliff, zoot, marrabis, pot, wacky backy, the hairy skunk balls.

This has been their main hobby for... I'd say the last ten to fifteen years. This helps explain their general listlessness and liberal attitude to cleaning, and my resulting passive aggressive behaviour. Anyway, this particular account focuses on one reason why I think they should take up... I don't know.... a hobby like knitting instead.

Roomy B got back in from work at about 11pm as he does. I said hello and we had a chat about some stuff (some of which you'll read about in my next journal entry). Then his phone rang, it was Roomy A. Roomy A was at work (they do night shifts which suits their lifestyle: Sunlight? Bad. People? Bad.). A conversation ensued and I heard Roomy B speaking to Roomy A, saying something like this:

'Is it the mains gas?.... Do you need me to do something?....... Are you OK?....... Is someone coming?.....'

Roomy A never calls Roomy B. They generally try and avoid any form of communication unless it's completely necessary. So what could it be about? It must have been something important to make Roomy A pick up his phone and call in the first place.

Well, it turns out that it was something so urgent that Roomy A had..... forgotten what it was. How many times have you gone to the effort to make a call, when you never normally make a call, only to forget why you made the call? Somewhere between Roomy A's thought process 'I better make a call about that' and the action of searching the contact list on his phone and pressing the green button, Roomy A's brain had forgotten what it was that made him make the call.

The subsequent conversation was Roomies A and B trying to deduce what the phone call was about and failing. Slowly. I thought that was fucking hilarious and Roomy B and I shared a laugh about it.

Perhaps Roomy A originally made the phone call to warn Roomy B about the effects sustained and excessive weed smoking can have on short term memory. Or perhaps not.




<sub>This week I recommend:
1. lolcats
2. Central heating
3. Shoes


This week I do not recommend:
1. Holding the door
2. The number 14



Two weeks tomorrow</sub>