Today's task is from the August 4th entry. I have to INTERLINK POSTS. This just means I have put links in my posts to all my other posts. For all posts on the theme, click here.

So I've been doing just that. My blog is now a dense interconnected thicket of self-reference. Any attempt to leave one room will almost certainly drop you into another. You can check in any time you like, but you can never leave. If you should bump into anyone who's been wandering about for more than a week, you might gently point them towards the home button at the top.

Meanwhile, there's been progress with previous posts on the theme. No-one replied to my comment in the Bristol City forum, or apparently visited here off it as far as I can tell, but I did get a lovely email from Mrs Tilton. She shared her real name with me, but I shan't tell you.

So I'm asked to fill in for someone's class, and the catch is it's Thursday morning. The reason why I'm saying it's a catch is that it's the morning after my birthday, which means it's the morning after my birthday drink. Still, I don't start until 9:30, which is reasonable enough, and it's two minutes walk from my house, so I figure what the hell.

After all, it only involves helping five students make a Powerpoint presentation for their ten minute big moment next week. I could do it in my sleep for all the technical difficulties it presents. And when I arrive, the best of the five is already beavering away on hers. It's about the virtues of a healthy diet. It's ironic given my liquid diet the night before, but nothing I can't handle.

The next student is doing one on gardening, and alarm bells start to go off in my head, despite the Ibuprofen. I hate gardening the way that most people hate - well, hate gardening, unless they're some kind of freak. You know the kind, all herbaceous borders and a total ignorance of Wittgenstein. Still, we're there to encourage them to follow their dreams, not ours, so I feign interest.

The next student is doing eyebrows. I don't mean she's doing her own, I mean that's what her presentation is about. So we spend ten minutes Googling for celebrities and the precisely calibrated hairy lines that separate their eye sockets from their forehead, while she witters on about the importance of personal grooming to self esteem. To me, she explains this. I don't know about you, but my interest in personal grooming extends to 'Do I Actively Smell?' and 'Are The Holes In My Clothes Actually Bigger Than The Cloth Between Them?', and once I've passed both those tests I usually reckon I'm good to go.

So it's starting to be a hard morning in other people's worlds, and then the fourth student unveils her presentation. It's the life of the Prophet Mohamed. Strangely, she chooses to skirt around the paedophilia and slave ownership, and under the circumstances I'm not going to remind her. As a piece of work, it's actually very good. She's put in some pictures of buildings in Mecca, and I'm quite surprised how soothing Islamic architecture is to the hangover.

I'm nearly done, and then the last student reveals her topic. It's "How I became a Christian". Now this could have led to a revealing discussion of British cathedrals I've been stoned in (Durham and Wells, since you ask), and maybe some Bach, but instead we get five slides of nauseating drivel about some Ted Haggard lookalike in a suit. I bite my tongue so hard, it's a shock to realise I haven't eaten it.

And then I'm allowed home, to doze and dream of a world without religion, gardening or eyebrows. And to write this, just in case the world ever wants to know the precise moment God changed in my mind from ludicrous fantasm to mortal enemy. I just wanted to get drunk and lie in afterwards, God. Why wouldn't you let me?

And I won't actually be publishing this until it's too long ago to identify the class I'm writing about. They're a nice bunch, religious wittering aside, and it wouldn't be professional to upset them. Also, there's my long standing rule to Never Let Them Know What I Really Think. It's definitely for the best.