It's just the name of my 'home'
Yes. There is no Photoshop or a pathetic attempt to get some cool points (man is too sho for that you get me!?)
My recent decision to go to a university to enjoy my time away from home backfired as the stuck up son of a guns actually turned me... ME?!... Away from their institute of learning to go par with the par. No par intended. I lied.
So I'm at [insert comical possible name here i.e. University of Fartumbria] doing a lot aka 'mind ya bidness dats all... Just mind ya bidness'
Getting people to live with was EAAAAAASY... Getting people who had a British passport, a sense of independence, deposit money and a non 419 mentality WASN'T.
After de-sensitizing the selected few with the use of day time TV and Stephen Fry quotes, it was a matter of who got what room.
DUM DUM DUMMMMMMMMMBeing the manly men the other FIVE* are... Yes... No home, No connotations, they decided to settle the dispute buy, you've guessed it...
BUY PLAYING PRO EVOLUTION SOCCER!!!
Haven't the foggiest.
All I know is that mana man got the room I wanted without touching a games pad... All it takes is a few skippy words, a handshake and a witness who didn't actually see anything.
SIDEBAR: FAHK YOU DERREN BROWN! 1 YOU CAN'T SPELL YOUR NAME CORRECTLY AND 2 THE ONLY PEOPLE WHO FEEL YOU TOUCH THEMSELVES.
*Random visits are permitted at anytime in the aid of saving me from insanity. Women need not apply.