The Jane Genie

I don't know what life will be like at university but I'm pretty sure it won't consist of shoving my cat's arse into my mum's face and shouting "Smell the fart! Smell the fart!" and then laughing like a crazy witch. Welcome to another normal Tuesday dans le Jardine maison.

Because I lack originality I'm going to do what Caitlin and Laura have done and write my letter to television.

Dear Television,

We don't see each other as much as we used to. I remember watching The Simpsons and Robot Wars and Blue Peter almost religiously. But those days have gone, cast off into the wind along with my bright green primary school jumper and Pokemon cards.

Nowadays I watch you for about two hours a week. And when I say that, I mean that's the time I actually sit down in front of you, in a chair and watch your screen. The two programmes that have currently been given that honour are Doctor Who and Psychoville. Otherwise I guess I just sit upstairs, usually on my bed, watching all the other programmes that I can't watch downstairs. Bones and True Blood, basically. I'm going through a bit of a Bones phase right now, re-watching all of my favourite episodes and seeing as there have been six seasons that's a lot of mangled corpses to get through.

And then when Doctor Who finishes on Saturday until later this year (ahkfdkajskja) I guess it'll only be half an hour for Psychoville that we see each other anymore.

I'm sorry, my friend. But my bed is just comfier.

Love, Genie.