The joys of Trashbook

Now that Tarzan has decided to get back in touch, he's sending an avalanche of texts.
*The 2nd one, to apologise for late texting because he's phone is "playing up".
*The 3rd one, to say that he'll be getting a new number in a few days, so that we should get in touch through Facebook.
*The 4th and last one to date, to give me his contact details so I can actually find him on Facebook.

I still haven't replied, I'm saving that bit for tomorrow evening, you know, instead of studies-related researches...

But still, there I go, and type his name on Trashbook.
You have 1 friend in common.

Damn, this is getting interesting, who could that be?
I keep going, click on the one friend in common.

TADAM!!! G-the-M!

Great. My next date and my Friend-Turned-One-Night-Stand-Who-Didn't-Want-To-Have-Anything-To-Do-With-Me-Ever-Again-After-That are mates.

Seriously, how many inhabitants in London? 7 millions?
I'm giving up and becoming religious. There must be a superior entity.
One particularly fond of taking the fucking piss.


PS: I just wanted to update you on how well my studies are going. I am spending the next two hours removing all sort of evidence that G-the-M and I ever met on my Facebook page. Talk about productive work!