Save your nuts for a rainy day.

I'm so spent...and not in the way that you'd usually associate with being 'spent'. The last few nights have involved running marathon sessions of Lego Star Wars, holing myself in my room with the missus watching The Simpsons and generally just sleeping very late and waking up a ridiculously short time later.

It's as if I'm still not ready to release my grasp on the last vestiges of my youth...and I feel incredibly old, yet qualified, for saying that it is indeed wasted on the young.

You wankers; if you only knew how much of the world was in your hands. You wouldn't be walking around wearing flower-embroidered boot cut jeans. It's as bad as my innate desire to have Alien Workshop jeans when I was sixteen. Alien Workshop withered away as quickly as it came down upon us; the same can be said for that effeminate junior metrosexual rubbish that kids these days aspire to be robed in.

It's really an ugly, stinking, rancid potpourri of ideas gone wrong.

But I digress.

I went for my first job interview ever a couple of days ago, and left the building feeling happier for it. If I manage to weasel my way into the second interview, I'd feel more than happy, and, by the hammer of Thor, if I actually land the job, I swear that I won't masturbate to Internet pornography for two weeks.

Before you guffaw at it, let it be known that two weeks can lead to my testicles growing to the size of watermelons. Just ask Spud.

Again, I digress.

I suppose that the stars have aligned and the fates have agreed that it really, really, really is time for me to move on and that I should be moving off my arse to greener pastures...or at least pastures that have fewer cows in them.

I'm so excited. I'm like a pig that's swimming in shit.

But, even though things are as blessed as they seem, I could do with a little more sleep.