Okay, so people call me funny. That means both funny-amusing and funny-looking. Just plain wierd, in the case of Kirsty, who for the life of her can't work out why I smile at her when she's taking the piss out of me. My fringe is big, and kindly note that the word 'fringe' does not mean 'penis.'
Very few. To get a decent job at the end of school/college/universirt and all that shit, I suppose. Also, to be very rich and marginally more well-known than I am now. At present, I am simply a part of a group that many people in Southampton have heard of. Not, in other words, nearly famous enough.
Money, fame. Perfection. The standard shit that everyone wants. World dominion would be nice as well, but I don't think I'll go out of my way to achieve it.
Again, very few. I somehow managed to become a prefect. That was probably because half of the year applied and the teachers just got lazy and said that we're all wonderful people who deserve... prefectdom. I also ran screaming from my Work Experience. That was pretty cool.
The Rasmus are very cool, but so are Placebo and Finger Eleven, along with numerous other bands. At the moment my favourite films are the Lost Boys, the Green Mile, and Cruel Intentions. Oh, and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory because Willy Wonka is such a Charlie-Humping paedophile. Wonderful.