| Phylli's ways not to flirt. |
[01 Dec 2003|09:46am] |
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1. Look at the person you fancy. Scream loudly, and contort your face into one that shows absolute cold and void shattering fear.
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[01 Dec 2003|09:49am] |
Did some studying last night in the Bell. Had the whole upstairs area to myself, and i got down to some serious scene writin'.
I think it's done. There is enough imagination and decent writing i think. It just needs refining really.
Plenty Playhouse people in. Including Zoe. A very pleasant surprise. She's still asking if i'm going to the panto. I really don't know. It's two days away, and i have a lot to do. I don't know if i can make it.
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| Phyllis ways not to flirt |
[01 Dec 2003|10:36am] |
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2. Offer them a painted egg with your face on it.
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| Sam |
[01 Dec 2003|10:39am] |
Sam cluttered down the dusty tracks to his shack, the sun still beating his back in the afternoon glow. He was pushing a cart, a cart just big enough to carry a sack of potatoes but just small enough for a small man like Sam to push.
Sometimes along the way the cart would slip into the grooves along the side of the tracks, and he would push it back out with a great effort; Sam was in his 70's, and every push made his muscles strain. Eventually he made it to his shack, and bashed the door open.
The shack was full of cans, tins, and what not. It was just large enough to be considered a large shed, with corrugated iron re-enforcing the outside, and Sam had called it home for years. He had a sink, a comfortable chair, and an old table that he could write on, and drink his whisky. In the evening a friend would sometimes visit, sometimes not... and they would sit and talk about old times.
This was not one of those nights. He was alone in the shack with merely his thoughts and a candle. Outside he could hear a noise, possibly a fox. They always made that blood curdling scream that sounded more like some mythical beast than a woodland creature.
He knocked back another glass, and wrote on his notepaper what had happened to him that day. It took him until the early morning, Sam was extremely fastidious in detail about his daily activities. Down to the most minute detail; the sound of his steps upon the market streets, the way the bubbles rose in his afternoon lager at the pub. Even the way the pub smelt that day. The way the smoke drifted through the shafts of light whilst people talked and dragged on their pipes. He even noted the tiny dog curled up in the corner, that he had never noticed before.
Sam eventually fell asleep. Only to be woken up later by a sound outside. He had never heard this sound before, and it had startled him so much he sat bolt upright in his old chair, something quite unlike a man of Sam's peaceful demeanour.
He opened the door.
Someone had put a giant fizzing cartoon bomb with "bomb" written on it outside. He was blown to fuck.
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[01 Dec 2003|06:04pm] |
I have a sore throat, a cold, and a sneeze too. I think you can condense these under the title "A cold".
I visited David's to fuck about on his M1 Korg, a remarkable machine with about six gazillion effects, sounds, combos....The Prodigy used to use it, apparently.
Little Joel grooved with us. He's growing up so fast, i actually remember being at the Bell when he was BORN. Two years ago. Now that's insane.
I'm probably going to update my life story for the benefit of anyone not familiar with it. Check the profile. You see, this diary is not complete. There was a Ruby Lounge (My old board) one, but this was limited by the people i knew that read it. This one isn't, but this one doesn't have the original stuff. Hang on, i'll cut and paste.
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| Life CV: An easy guide how not to live your life. |
[01 Dec 2003|06:10pm] |
"You know the score by now though; insecure, lonely and shy but intrinsically nice and sardonically humoured twenty seven year old seeks a denounment of some calibre and happiness, and this diary is all about it. Now fucking read before i ram a Polo into your eye."
I wrote more, but it was in a forum now deleted. What you should also know is that i went to school like other good kids, left school with mediocre qualifications that i attained through sheer un-motivation, and spent seven years in a self pity state. I never went out, (albiet sporadically) i hardly worked, i didn't socialise, and i felt like i looked like shit.
At twenty four i finally got a permanent job. Not much of a postition in the old career ladder, but it's my niche', and i love the people i know there. I've actually made some friends, and just starting to experience things i should have been ten years ago. Some things still elude me, but i'm working on it.
So yeah...still learning. About life, people, everything. I'm sure you are too, but all that's different is i'm doing it all much later in life.
Still feel i look like shit though. But even that doesn't bother me.
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| Phyllis' ways not to flirt |
[01 Dec 2003|06:27pm] |
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3. Bounce a tennis ball repeatedly on the forehead of your object of affections.
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[01 Dec 2003|06:28pm] |
I'm going to have to go to the Bell again. I need to try and finish this bloody script of mine. Also, Zoe and co might be in again.
You know how it is.... i just love flirting with her, and no matter what.....she is so bloody fine.
Hey, we'll see. Until then i intend to sing Depeche Mode's "Home" very loudly. Watch me shamble.
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[01 Dec 2003|06:56pm] |
More ruthless analogies from Quizilla.com.
Your soul is bound to the Solitary Rose: The
Alone.
"When I wake up alone, the shades are still
drawn on the cold window pane so they cast
their lines on my bed and lines on my
face."
The Solitary Rose is associated with loneliness,
melancholy, and patience. It is governed by
the goddess Merope and its sign is The Sword,
or Unrequited Love.
As a Solitary Rose, you may be summed up as a
hopeless romantic. You desire love and have so
much love to give, but thing just never seem to
work out the way you want them to. In life,
you can be very optomistic, even when things
are gray and nothing works out to your
expectations.
What Rose Is Your Soul Bound To?
brought to you by Quizilla
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[01 Dec 2003|06:57pm] |
You represent... anger.
Mad at the world, eh? You have a tendency to...
freak out easily. Overly emotional about
everything, you're most prone to bouts of
cruelty and moodiness. Other people may be
afraid of the fact that you explode so easily,
but at least you're honest... even if you're
honest about not liking anything.
What feeling do you represent?
brought to you by Quizilla
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[01 Dec 2003|07:04pm] |
You are Morpheus, from "The Matrix." You
have strong faith in yourself and those around
you. A true leader, you are relentless in your
persuit.
What Matrix Persona Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla
Fucking hell.
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