Yesterday was semi-disastrous on a number of fronts.

Our landlord came round for the rent cheques yesterday. Our contract ends in March, but I assumed that we'd be able to stay on for another year. He started going on about selling his current house at some point (but didn't say he'd be moving here) blah blah blah and told me he'd know around February. It's pretty irritating not knowing either way, and there will be properties out there we can move into, but actually having the opportunity to look round is another matter. Last year I only had a part-time job, this year I'll be in a school miles away.

Which brings me onto "The Yell's Future Plans". The band have been told by the man from Marquis Cha Cha that they need to quit their jobs and go on the dole! He seduced them with the idea of having "The Yell" Converse (which I joked they would be making themselves to pay back the £500 or whatever they've had from the record company so far). Unfortunately I won't be on a decent wage for a long time yet, and while I'd like to be able to support Ian's dreams, it seems a little far-fetched.

It's all academic anyway. Their gig last night at the Casbah ended shambolically and with a lot of ill feeling. To sum up, Dan (singer) started slagging off Dan (bass) on stage and ordering him and James (guitar) about. This culminated with Dan (singer) actually fiddling with Dan's bass in the middle of the song, while he was playing it, and pulling out his lead (I think). Dan was rightfully incensed, took off his bass and went backstage.

Later on, I got called a "knobhead" by an odious man (who I've termed "the only gay in the village", to give you an idea about his persona) who was wearing shiny spandex leggings with a visible hole in the anus-area under some partially-present jeans.

So at 1am we were running through pouring rain with half a drum kit (I was using the snare as an umbrella) trying to find a black cab without much luck.

God.