Vishal.

So, I'm not particularly sure what exactly I should be writing in this entry. To be honest, I'm not writing of my own accord. You see, there is this boy, who I was unfortunate enough to have met last week, and I truly pitied him. He doesn't have many friends, and me, being the kind girl I am, decided that I would elevate his miserable status by writing a blog entry - dedicated to him.

Yes, this puts him among the subjects of DJs, pornography and how I would conceivably have sex with George Clooney. This must give him some form of credibility, should it not? I suppose that I should write a little blurb about him, as most likely you are lucky enough to not to have come into contact with him.

The only reason that he has relented in punching random buttons on my keyboard like an overactive toddler, is because I finally agreed to write about him. (Edit: I take that back, he just button mashed again.) 

What to say about Vishal? Well, this exercise is only made more difficult, due to the fact that he is reading this as I write, and periodically objecting to my comments. Like now. I really don't have time to finish this pointless entry, as my ECON lecture is about to let out, and I'm hungry.

There you go Vishal.

NOW STOP BOTHERING ME.