BACK TO BOREDOM
For the first time in over a week reminders of my faux pas par excellence were nowhere to be seen. Not in the papers, not on the radio, nor on the tele. So unless my African friend makes good on the press's threat and goes onto the celebrity circuit, I should be okay for a while. The question is, do I tell my parents (who remain blissfully unaware of my involvement)?

Right now, they're downstairs. I popped home to eat a decent meal and steal, I mean, borrow my mum's car. I'm off to Tami's place to watch Arsenal play. Hoping the spark that drew us together the other night remains in place. If not, then I think it will be proof positive that I have a serious problem. Tobi reckons I think less of girls after I kiss them. But I know that's not true (though for "something-but-nothing" she may have a point). I basically need to keep my snake in its cage, my hands to myself and my head in control. If I can do all that, then maybe, just maybe Tami and I might last longer than the requisite fortnight.