The Complete Stone Roses are playing Glasgow again in March. This will be four months since I last saw them. I feel as if my life is just a continuous cycle: see The Complete Stone Roses, get depressed, see some other band, get depressed, see a young lady for a short period of time, be destroyed by that young lady, get depressed, go to university, see The Complete Stone Roses, get depressed and so on. It's an exciting life, really.

Ach, I suppose depression is too strong a word to use. My troubles are nothing to moan about, even although I do enjoy moaning with an alarming passion. Today I fell asleep at around about 4.30pm. It allows me to escape from the reality of boredom that surrounds me; it's like an aura, if you will. Even my dreams are boring these days though. Like films, they just don't make them like they used to these days.

I am going to a wedding reception this Saturday night, which may provide a momentary blip in the oscillator. I don't imagine it being very good; I hardly know anyone there, and I generally tend to be anti-social anyway. I'll do what I did last Saturday, and just drink lager to provide some relief.

Does anyone think sex is a sacred thing these days? I guess it's turned out a bit like the BBC: at one time great and held in high regard by all, now just another thing in the course of a usual day. I read in the newspaper a few days ago that some stupid English bint was auctioning her virginity on eBay to raise funds. Auctioning her virginity! It's even worse than the dirty whore who works the streets night in, night out!

Having said that, seeing her picture made me realise why she still has her virginity. My, she wouldn't even register a 6.1 on the Hot or Not scale. Me? I still have my virginity, because it's my ball and no, no you can't play with it. Yet.