So, I'm living with Jim. What is there to say? When I arrived in his house I found his landlord sat, wearing a top hat and emitting no signs of life. At first glance his room appears to be full of human skulls, each sporting a monocle, sat atop piles of coins. Hover flies living in the king-sized bed emit a steady humm as they go about their business. Green Nik-Naks appear to be all he eats, besides the usual intake of child hair.

Small Asian boys supply the music and play an assortment of wind and string instruments, to the theme of Dynasty Warriors. I'm initially impressed, but soon learn the tune only requires a single finger.

After we settle in for the night with our brandy and begin to discuss the matters of the day it soon becomes apparent that Jim does not appreciate my argument about "Sausages as art" being as valid an argument as "games as art" or "Crack in the floor as art".

[Jim insists at this point that this is not the case, but this is my blog so to you Jim I say "Fuck you"]

I feel this week is going to be interesting. Keep watching to see how long it takes for me to get AIDs.