Some blog testing. Hope these Spoiler tags work.

If they don't then you get to revel in my utter humiliation and failure. YAY. And shut up Patrick if you read this. I suck with any form of coding, I know. It's why I do History. Jerk.
Click me to read spoilers: PART 1

Once upon a time, Bar One was the kind of place you went to when you wanted to get crunked. The dank, dingy yet somehow colourful purple walls spread across your eyes and tempted you in. The only purpose of the inside was to get a drink from the bar, and as a functional walkway to the outside social area or the pool room. A pool room that reminded you of the days in a basement room at high school, suffering while some know-it-all prick took your pride and potential and destroyed it with a stick. [Or maybe that was just the abuse...]. Now? The sheer fact I'm writing this inside Bar One is a testament to how much it has changed. It is now somewhere where real work can be done, where groups can meet up, enjoy decent food and get drunk not only on alcohol but the vibrant atmosphere. Everything is new, and shiny, and smooth, and befitting of that kind of bar. I'd drink now in honour of it but there's a lecture soon.

Click me to read spoilers: PART 2

Sometimes, UPS, I don't want logistics. I DON'T want a jaunty tune to tell me I can deliver things amazingly with you. I just want to watch a fucking video ONCE IN MY THOR-FORSAKEN LIFE without the need to be brainfucked with a happy jingle. Maybe I don't like jingles. Maybe I prefer songs. Maybe I'm a douche and prefer spoken word hidden as a tune. Maybe I even like rap. THIS IS AURAL RAPE. Hey, that could be a band.
OK, wat. WAT.

Click me to read spoilers: PART THREE

Now that my ears are sufficiently dead, I can inform you of my lovely new purple hoodie. Why is it lovely? A good question. Because I "stoled" it from my brother. He wouldn't wear it, mum offered it, I took it. A good deal. I like purple.

If this didn't work, I apologise. I suck.