Another Last Goodbye

"Oh. My. God! Steve Irwin has died! He's died!"

And so this, not the return to Sixth Form, has been the story of the day. It's amazing, really, how such news can seep into the public consciousness and genuinely shock people when there are so many deaths and horrible stories on the television every day. But it was Steve Irwin. As in, Invincible Irwin the Crocodile Man. Even John Howard made a statement.

This afternoon Gem and I walked through a gang of boys - including our brothers - playing cricket languidly. One of them, with a sorrowful shake of the head, muttered: "Stung right in the heart. He was really cool as well. Like Warney". High praise indeed.

* * * * *

But life goes on. And so we went to register for Sixth Form - which essentially was making notes of our timetables and our new forms. Kirstin and I exchanged glances at the latter. There were a fair few friends I would have loved to be in the same form as, but unfortunately it looks like I won't be in the same class as either the fun boys from the original A11, or the fabulously named new kid Rafael.

"He's probably the biggest chav you've ever seen, though," observed mum, "or really pretentious." She paused, then added "You know, you are going there to work, not to socialise."

To which I answered, "Meh. Whatever."

My dad is working night shifts at the moment, and so the house has become a place of peace and tranquility during the day, as I chase Matt around hissing "I will gag you if I have to!". Honestly. He has no respect, or concept of being quiet. He goes through life quite happily, kicking radiators, singing loudly and slamming doors whilst I follow him glaring.

And it's an Outage, so there'll be another month of it.

Hmmmm. With the exception of Steve Irwin and my brother, however, I've had a fabulous day. It's been spent working out which titles I will use on my blog when Graham Onions makes his England debut. So many cliches, so little time!

My favourite, aside from the usual "eye-watering display", "cooks up a feast" tabloid favourites, is “Onions Barjeed by Hungry Pakistanis”. Written by someone from TC, who, frankly, must be a genius. Or an man with a lot of time on his hands.

Kiss me, please kiss me.

But kiss me out of desire, babe, and not consolation

You know it makes me so angry 'cause i know that in time I'll only make you cry,

this is our last goodbye