Stark bleached fools ...

Me and my Dad went round looking at places to live in Birmingham today. It's a massive place and I was frankly totally confused by the whole experience. We looked at about six places in total. They were all much of a muchness and seen as I don't really know anything about the different areas that I looked at I'm a little in the dark. In the end I was just so sick of looking that I picked one almost at random. Not a bad place but it'll take a while to move in, lots of paperwork to sort out. Looks like in the meantime I'll be doing an Alan Partridge and staying in a Travel Lodge. That's £50 a night I'll be sp#nking. B#ll#cks.

It'll be weird to go and work at a new place, after the pleasant experience I've had at The Bay part of me is sh#tting myself that Kerrang will be a step back into the depressing world that radio can sometimes become. There's no reason for me to think that might be the case though, other than my awful paranoia.

Is it possible to be paranoid about your own paranoia?*




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