Well, I have been for a look round my flat. It is green. Need I say more? I imagine you would find it helpful so I will indulge you, you lucky hunks of brain-on-legs.
Green is a colour that the depressed people who design quilt-covers do not seem to warm to. The closest they seem to have managed is a rather insipid turquoise blue and I must admit I would rather hang myself from the doorframe with a measure of piano-wire about my (I'm sure you'll agree) rather snoggable neck.
So, the search for a green quilt-cover continues. If you find one do please let me know, but bear in mind that if I get within ten feet of a 'contemporary' design I am uncontrollably sick, so, to save myself the dry-cleaning costs, please do not recommend anything in that vain.
However, the room itself is splendid, with a large desk and unexpectedly ample bookshelving (although I will have to take more), and a swivel chair that allows me to sweep round the room like an overly-pretentious General Practitioner (please note: I will administer a full psysical for a competative price of £5, wear nice underpants, no time-wasters please.)
The bed is a double (handy!) and the headrest is deep but low and promises a few cracks on the head in the first few weeks.
However, I have an en-suite 'pod' which is small enough for showering and shitting to occur simultaneously (both convenient and time-efficient) but is most admirable in design.
The kitchen boasts an extractor fan with a button labelled PURGE on it - what it does I have no idea but I greatly anticipate finding out - and two fride-freezers, which between five of us is pretty good going.
Security are positively huggable, yet fierce (so everything you could want in security, I feel) and trams stop just outside the flats (the stop is Shalesmoor).
All in all, fairly groovy, I'm sure you'll agree, my delicious readers.
Also, just bought a book by Banachek about psychophysiological mind-reading, the arrival of which I have soiled myself in anticipation of.
Hope all is going well for those wholly-nibbleable readers who are venturing into the great abyss of academia, and one word of advice: buy something in tweed!
Cyber-love, hugs, and frotting,
Your amiable chum,
Robert 'pucker up, Mildred!' Clark xxxxxx