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[22 Nov 2003|10:38am] |
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Shakespeare update: I have 493 words so far on my essay. I need 700. Bloody hell.
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[22 Nov 2003|10:47am] |
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The other night Zoe pointed out she looks like the woman out of Evanescence. Suddenly that woman is much more attractive.
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| Mac bloody Beth |
[22 Nov 2003|11:27am] |
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I've finished. All that needs to be done now is some re-editing. I have e-mailed it to the tutor to see what needs doing, if anything.
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| The new adventures of Sherlock Holmes |
[22 Nov 2003|04:54pm] |
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mood |
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INT: Holmes Towers
Watson: Post is here, Holmes.
Holmes: Ah, so it is, my dear chap! Let me see....bills.....last demands....Reader's Digest prize draw...threatening letters from Moriarty....ooh...and more fan letters..
Watson: Eh...i haven't actually given you the post yet, Holmes.
Holmes: .....yes...but i'm so good at sleuthing i don't need to see them....elementary, my dear Watson
Watson: Why do you always say that?
Holmes: Question not a man with an inflatable penis in his hand.
Watson: What peni...
Holmes: Give IT TO ME.
Watson: Very well.
Holmes: Let me see....AH! My crisp competition! Let's see how i did...with my detective powers i'm sure to win the lifetime supply of Smokey Bacon and Twiglets. WHAT?
Watson: What is it, Holmes?
Holmes: FUCKING CHRIST! THIRD PRIZE....a single box of salt and vinegar?
Watson: Oh no....
Holmes: WATSON. GET MY CLOAK.
Watson: You're already wearing it...
Holmes: MY PIPE THEN.
Watson: Again...
Holmes: Oh, you pedantic fool! You pedantic fucking.....fucker! LET US GO AND INVESTIGATE WATSON.
Watson: Sigh.
To be continued.
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| Zoomeister |
[22 Nov 2003|05:00pm] |
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Coming Soon...Ellijah Wood stars...in...."Is it Tuesday or Wednesday these days?". One man's anxiety at wether he put his fucking rubbish out on the correct day for collection.
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| E-mail reply from tutor. |
[22 Nov 2003|05:06pm] |
Apparently, my essay is very good indeed, and has a sound structure. This is extremely encouraging. However, as i thought i do need to go into more detail on certain points, such as Macbeth's influence by the witches.
This thankfully, is no problem. I really did skim lazily over the essay this morning as i typed it out. I was very very tired, and actually wanted to just send that to see the initial review. But now i know what i need to do, i should be well on the well. I would love to achieve three good grades by the end of this third assignment. I have managed an A-/B+ in Personal Writing, and a B in oral. Which makes me wonder why i didn't sit GCSE before. I've no excuse for not having at least tried to improve my school grade after seven years.
But what really puzzles me is exactly how i can write and read English at all. I certainly don't remember anything i learnt at school. What is odd, is i actually used to spell words deliberately wrongly in my school books, for the cheap laugh of how written text reads if spelt like it is pronounced. Example:
"So, eye went too le shops faw sum beens. ley had no beens, sow my mum went mentool."
Fucking made me laugh. But how did i know how to spell in the first place? I don't really understand my brain. At all. I know it works on some levels, i'm just not sure how. Or how i have picked things up without trying.
So...yeah...i'll carry on "learning". And shit. And you'll be able to read about it. Whilst i fall asleep typing wretched monologues of prose on bears or something.
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[22 Nov 2003|05:23pm] |
I have an annoying little headache tapping away in the recesses of my brain. I'm battering it with painkillers. Mainly because i have a busy night ahead of me.
In my lowly position as a washer up at a village pub, headaches mean fuck all to the boss, i am still in for a killer evening. The only comfort is a lack of bookings tomorrow morning. At least, as i left the diary on Friday afternoon, it was blank. Knowing my luck, it'll be full come tomorrow. If it is, i'm going to put my head in the dishwasher, and er...get slightly hot water on my head.
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