Tonight saw the 2002 leavers' reunion come and go. It was a rather sordid affair, and I spent much of my time sitting in the most comfortable chair I could find and watching the pub's television, while occaisionally engaging in barely-comprehensable conversation over the din of loud, distorted, "music".

This miniature soccer game caught my attention momentarily, before I finally left the characterless affair with its wretched, embarrassed intermingling and the almost compulsive consumption of alcohol this seemed to necessitate. Do forgive my vitriolic sentiments and the bitterness they underlie.