Saw Frank Turner on saturday, and it was probably the best gig I've been to (maybe after the Dylan gig back in 2007). Me and my friend got really drunk. We shouted our heads off (which ruined my voice the next day). Frank was talking with the audience and starts talking about a bar he played in in Liverpool, and my friend shouts "Slaters!" (Meaning Slaters' bar) And that was funny. But then my friend looks at me and goes, "No I think he meant Hannah's bar." So it finished and we had some more drinks, and I wanted my coat back because it cost £50 and it was in the cloakroom for £1. We left and went to Korova, which was shit on Saturday and ended up back were we started. It was just about having a laugh with funny conversations with him and when we decided to leave, walking down the road, some racist starts talking to us. We're just going "yeah, is that so, mate?" until he leaves us alone.
So I've been hungover and sick since then, but it was worth it. Anyway, I've been worse than this at uni. I wrote this short story the other day, but it doesn't make sense, but I think for me it's just practising my style.