Damn the cigarette holder doesn't fit a joint in it. That's about the only down side to it. The pluses are that it does keep smoke out of my face (I tested it while playing the guitar), it looks fucking cool and it was given to me by the most amazing, amusing, attractive and erudite (thank you Bret and Jemaine for that one). Ol also brought me over a load of foreign football shirts (I had no Summer til now, ta) and a sweet tie with a tank design on it. Amazing.

It's the first Monday back in Newquay, I have just posted my last post that must have been written at some point on Saturday. Sitting in front of the screen shouldn't be top on the to do list, but I've entered a two table sit n go and writing is seems like the better option to dumping $5 and going to the pub. I need to be fashionably on time.

Yesterday I left Falmouth and arrived in Newquay. As did Ol. I don't much feel like writing my private life over the internet (that's what photos on Facebook are for). But I will say it was good.

Anyway, my joint is running low, as are my chips. I've got a beautiful girl and a cold beer waiting for me in town. Good night.

Ah fuck it. This blog has had to be written in Notepad because my computer has reached new heights of base line slowness. I'm transfering a file on MSN and it seems to have completely eaten my meager connection speed.

Without the bunting or fanfare, this a landmark blog. Like all the good ones I'm writing it instead of seeing to more important matters. The landmark: my last post as a student of University College Falmouth. The more important matters: packing/tidying/eating.

There's an element of multi-tasking to my methods, as it turns out that the laptop did some update thing last night and every five minutes tells me to restart the system (which I can't do because I'm transferring files, keep up).

Last night was the last one in town with the guys and girls. Not my last night, that's tonight. But it was a good one and sad one equally. This morning we reconveined to have a final Wetherspoons breakfast together. We then went to Argos and got Casio watches (I've totally got in early on the trend. I got mine last year!). The circle is complete. I've graduated, I've had my farewells, now all I need to do is leave. Well, I need to pack and tidy up first, but I've explained that.

In a half assed bit of reminiscing, I've realised that I've learned quite a bit over the last three years. About myself, about people, about life and about writing. I'd never imagine a few years ago that I'd be able to sit at my desk (lying in bed) and bash out 500 words in a matter of minutes without having to add superfluous fluffy bits of excuses and padding to my words. Just stick to the point. The odd tangent is welcome but can be outstayed. Keep it sharp.

And I think that's a nice place to leave it. There will be more words by the Art School Writer in the future. Words of greater relevance, humour, insight (hopefully) that more and more people will read. That's where I need to head next, a platform with an audience. But as my transfer has just fucked up, I can let the laptop restart and get on with more important matters. Like getting out of this place.

It has been a joy, of immeasurable standards.