P. used to have a blog, but he isn't such a frequent writer like me, and to be honest, I think he was a bit intimidated by my writing style. To make long stories shorter: P. gave up on the whole blogging thing. He just isn't cut out to write small poetry on stupid stuff. He's a rather straightforward guy. Things happen when you specialise in logic. Now he's in Oxford and everything can get a bit boring over here. Same ol', same ol', you know. Kids being crazy, me yelling at them, and generally things you don't want to know. So we make a pact and P. is blogging through me. I pull the strings, I type the words, and P. provides the stories and the pictures. We're our own little newspaper with a foreign correspondent.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Picture by P.
