Let me set the scene...
It's a dark and cold January night, and indecisivephotobrother is off to his best friend's birthday party. His younger sisters are jealous, so to cheer them up, their parents take them to spend their £10 Christmas money. But there's only really one place open now, and that's Asda. Asda has a toy aisle, doesn't it? They'll find something they like there.

And so we did. Younger sister found a doll with some sort of flashy rubbish all over it, but the older of the pair takes a shine to a stuffed gorilla. That doesn't take up the whole £10, so she buys a pen as well, she likes writing. She names him Gus, after a similar toy gorilla at school.

That was 1996, and 12 years down the line, the pen was used up, chewed up, chucked out, years ago, but Gus is still sat on my bed behind me just waiting for a cuddle. His paws are a bit worn and his fur a bit faded but to me he's still as perfect as ever. Until recently, every time I'd stayed somewhere overnight, he's been there, and I still uphold that tradition whenever I can. He'd be the first thing I'd save from a fire; I'd rather die than let him burn. What would life be without something always there to snuggle?


Second would be my record collection, if I could actually fucking move the bastard heavy box it's in. And third would be my setlist from one of the Cribs' Christmas gigs (second album b-sides set), no explanation required.
(and now for someone completely different, Thu 8 May 2008, 23:30, Reply)