I know, I was shocked too

Would you believe me if I told you that I have been offered a place at university to study English Literature? Me with my four GCSES and a BTEC in performing arts?
No, you wouldn't believe me. You'd think I was lying (again).
But no! It's actually true!

I am more than a little surprised. I don't actually believe it. I never thought I was clever enough. But maybe I am! Maybe I just never realised! I might be a genius for all I know.

So, I got an UNCONDITIONAL offer from University of Westminster. It isn't the best university in the world but it's better than West Thames or whatever it's called. I went there for an open day a few months ago and it looked pretty fly actually.

So it looks like I'll be staying in London for a few more years. That's alright though, I quite like it here.

Ah... It's nice to get good news.

I Had You Under My Skin But Now You've Gone and I've Got a Big Plaster on My Face and it Looks Really Stupid

Well. Well, well, well.
I am no longer Cyst Face Smada.
Now I am Eisor Eisor Plaster Face.
Want to see a picture?


As you can see my plaster is 'skin colour'. But, unfortunately, not my skin colour. Someone else's. Oh well, I only have to wear it for A WHOLE WEEK.

I already found my celebrity lookalike:



Yes. Nelly. That's cool.

As a tribute, I took a picture of me looking a bit more street:



Ignore the Care Bear posters in the background, they are not in keeping with my new image.

The surgery was traumatic. I was stabbed repeatedly with a comedy sized needle (unbelievably painful) and then cut to ribbons (loudly) with a knife. I say loudly because I couldn't feel or see anything, only hear. And what I heard made me want to projectile vomit all over my self. But anyway, it's over now.

Oh, and I am scarred for life. They forgot to mention that until 30 seconds before the knife was pulled. Yes, a lifelong scar. Cool beans.