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[02 Oct 2004|09:35am] |
Had a look at the rest of my face last night. There is a method for BDD sufferers where you hold a mirror to a mirror, to see what the others see. And I did.
My face in motion in this way is odd...but better sometimes than when i'm looking face on at it. It's profile is better, and the hair looks longer. The eyes also stand out. On the bad side...you don't even want to know. Yergh. I guess i'm open to the ravages still.
After this self gazing malarkey I trodded to the Bell again to read a paper, and talk to Geoff. Suzanne was stomping about like a particularly angry bipedal Doberman.
And now I must write my e-mail. I hope you like it.
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[02 Oct 2004|09:48am] |
Done my e-mail. It was as sincere as I think I could ever be.
Woo. Okay...that's done...and it's all yours.....it's safe because it's true and remote from you...you can't beat me up or anything.
No matter what...I am always....er...he man I suppose.
Okay, you 'orrible lot! Back to work! Er..I mean...if you're at work, in which case get back to browsing porn sites and covertly minimizing them when the boss walks past, unless of course, you're in league. You filthy scum.
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[02 Oct 2004|09:55am] |
Been wearing my blue top, the one that makes me look rather more muscular than I actually am...as it's the only thing I CAN WEAR...nothing else is suitable for work, bar my Levi's top...equally flattering...AND THATS MISSING.
Where is it mother?
Hmmmm?
Oh yeah...she's out shopping.
The Pirate Lingo: No 1:
Pieces of eight/Frenzied masturbate
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| The Bench |
[02 Oct 2004|10:03am] |
"Hi...seat taken?"
"No...be my guest"
"Thanks"
"Why are you thanking me? It's a bench....there's loads of room...are you saying my arse is bench shaped?"
"No! No..."
"that's okay then. Who are you?"
"What?"
"Who are you? Did you leave that rat on the road?"
"What rat?"
"THAT RAT"
"That's a rat you've just picked up and thrown onto the road!"
"no i didn't...so do you want a cigarrette?"
"Yes...okay.."
"Great...there's a corner shop over there...i'll have some of yours when you're got them."
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| The WANKER Quote of the Week. |
[02 Oct 2004|10:22am] |
This little fucking piece of obnoxious cunt rhetoric was uttered by the priapic, thunderingly imbecilic Dan last week:
"I 'ate black people that are cocky.." he burbled, in the same way a fat man would talk of a salad.
Where do I even start with this comment? WHERE?
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| PRICKS |
[02 Oct 2004|10:36am] |
Found by http://www.b3ta.com, and on their great newsletter this week:
http://www.citycatshelter.com/
Watch the video. There's something so warm, yet so depressive about it. As if the cats wanted a nuclear blast to hit them and fuck all the isolation away.
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[02 Oct 2004|10:38am] |
No wonder that lot have been hanging around for ages..they look like the residents of a fucking cat detention centre.
That's what it is...these are the lifers and no mistake.
Guess what? It's Saturday. That means work...and a lot of it. I'm SO looking forward to working tonight, with the execreably rude and uncouth Suzanne, and the bitterly estranged Mel.
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[02 Oct 2004|10:45am] |
I think we can summise from that ....hilarious video, that cats do little than fucking sit around doing nothing. Give them a broom!
Wankers.
I laughed my little head off at that clip. I suggest you do too. That's almost it for this...fun packed morning. I'm back later to tell you how bad a mood i'm in after work.
Most assuredly...very bad.
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[02 Oct 2004|03:52pm] |
The unholy alliance is winning at the Bell. We feel like we're losing a running battle, new and ignorant members of staff are being treated like soft toy children, and we are the interlopers, despite being fucking good at our jobs, and very good at being consistently good at them.
I'm talking Suzanne, i'm talking.....yeah...her. She takes their side, and becomes more like them every day, standing in the kitchen, doing nothing, then accusing ourselves of being in the wrong for pointing this out.
The Bell has changed. Lunch was okay, though. Very busy and irritatingly warm...but nothing a few rounds of smashing a wall in frustration wouldn't sort out.
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| Shit off! |
[02 Oct 2004|04:47pm] |
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[02 Oct 2004|04:48pm] |
I don't know where the link to that one went, but if you're at all bothered about takingit you'll find the quiz on Fe's page.
Anyway, we're fully booked tonight. To the fucking rafters. A birthday party. An opportunity for your's truly to emblazon the upstairs restaurant with signs with "One year nearer the grave" and "Don't you just feel time slipping away", not to mention "You really shouldn't have managed to reach thirty, what with all the smoking"
They didn't want that, instead going for "Happy Birthday". If I had my way, birthdays, weddings and even funerals would be less balloons and cake, and more David Fucking Cronenberg.
But I don't. Tonight will be hell if Suzanne is in top obnoxious gear. JUST TRY MY PATIENCE THE FUCK OUT, you hag.
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| LOTR Return of the King Phylly Rewrite. Preview |
[02 Oct 2004|05:15pm] |
[Aragorn readies his horse, and does a wanker sign right in it's face, saying "Ball eyed cunt...." Eowyn approaches.]
Eowyn: Why are you doing this? Do you want the horse to like you? It has done little, save have a really long head and boulder sized eyeballs. And while we're on the subject, where the fuck are you going? We're going to get slaughtered!
Aragorn: Eowyn. I was....er......showing the horse how to....make...coffee.....the wanker...
Eowyn: We need you here.
Aragorn: Why are you here, anyway? Thought you were off looking forlornly into the distance?
Eowyn: You don't know?
Aragorn: LOOK, I don't FANCY you, alright? For FUCK's Sake...
[Eowyn holds back tears. Aragorn writes "Cunt", on the horses mane, in felt tip, laughs like a child, and turns away with Brego.]
[Aragorn leads Brego past Gimli.]
Gimli: Oi, wash and go...where the fuck are you going? Can I come?
Aragorn: No, it's......not a very..."dwarfy" pub....you wouldn't like it mate.
Gimli: FUCK.
[Legolas turns up, dressed as a bottle of bleach.]
Legolas: You don't fucking know how stubborn this cunt is, even now, do you Aragorn? And as well too, are we elves. We couldn't let you go to an all night detergent fancy dress party without us. Gethca Toilet Duck suit on, Gimmy!
Gimli: Woo hoo! Let's clean this fucking place apart!
[They ride toward the crevasse.]
Riders: OI!
[Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli disappear down the path.]
Rider: ....the fuck is he going?
Gamling: Fancy dress. We're not invited. A bit TOO apparenrly unwashed, he said. This coming from a man whose hair looks like a heron has been tugging at it.
Theoden: The cunt.
Gamling: We're going to DIE.
Theoden: Yeah, but we might as well have a laugh. We could draw orcs faces on balloons, and point at them laughing.
[The Riders nod.]
[Eowyn stands alone, playing with a yo yo, apparently unpertubed by the rebuttal of Aragorn)
Theoden: You're in fucking charge, sister daughter. Make sure this lot don't er....get...deaded too much. With the er....death...thing....and killing.
Eowyn: Anything else dad?
Theoden: Erm.... [He takes her hands.] Cheer the FUCK up....you'll find somebody else. I hear Merry wants a bit...eh...EH? (Does the arm holding sign for "GET IN THERE MAHHH SAHHHN", except to HIS OWN DAUGHTER)
[Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli are riding down a desolate path in the mountains.]
Gimli: What a fucking dump, I bet the beer's warm too.
Legolas: Um...that's the thing...this lot...they're all sort of dead....only the King of Gondor can lay them to rest....that'd be you, Aragorn.
Aragorn: Fuck's sake. Might as well get rid of this (Throws away Domestos suit)
[They approach the Dimholt door. It is decorated with skulls.]
Gimli: Anyone got any money? Bet there's an entry fee. I'm not paying it.
[Legolas reads the signs written along the wall.]
Legolas: "Check out our range of skulls. It's a WOOOOOOOOOO-HOOOOO scary cranial park of fun here. All skulls.....fifty eight pounds each."
[A gust of wind comes from the doorway, filled with ghostly voices. The horses piss off.. ]
Aragorn: COME BACK YOU LONG HEADED CUNT!
[Aragorn faces the Dimholt.]
Aragorn: Sod it. Change for the jukebox, anyone?
[He enters the tunnel. Legolas follows.]
Gimli: This is the worst night out i've ever been on. And that INCLUDES the dwarfs outing to the clean shaven society. WAIT FOR ME YOU WANKERS!
[He runs into the tunnel.]
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| Stuart, the flirtation show, and cheap laughs. |
[02 Oct 2004|06:07pm] |
And so Mr Stuart (TM) was once filmed in the crowd for a Channel 5 program based on the science of body language and flirtation, and was designed to show you the top ten steps to getting that person, or persons, if you so require.
It looked funny. The reason it looked funny is that the exercises were carried out almost apologetically by the "actors" and the real members of the public.
Take the "entering the room" method. In the words of the presenter, being as she is a pschycological therapist of sorts.....they are encouraged........to enter the room, and instead of going to sit down as soon as possible....standing there a while...looking around the room, being noticed, making eye contact.
The problem is the contrived nature of this exercise renders it utterly unnatural. Each participant merely looks as if they've left something in the room, and are trying to spot it without anyone saying "are you looking for something?"
Fucking ace...coming soon...my ways not to flirt....the return. Includes the all important advice. If you're flirting with someone you really like, don't on any account draw the words "Fuck" and "cunt" on your eyelids. As soon as you blink or flutter your eyelids appreciatedly, the subliminal message will start to be sent.
And you don't want that.
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| Joe Cool |
[02 Oct 2004|06:21pm] |
Tonight's the last night Graham will be here. We're going to go to the New Inn after work, in which a man/band named Joe Cool will be playing. I'm hoping it'll be a concept act composed of three men with dustbins and a dog shaped like a sack playing the trombone, and singing songs about the renaissance.
It won't be though. It's going to be Oasis covers or something, I bet you.
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[02 Oct 2004|06:24pm] |
Okay then. That'll be that. My time off has passed all too quickly. To be honest i'm going to be late, and I haven't eaten my tea yet. Vagabond in yer pond.
Take my heart out tear it into parts, replace. Next.
Good night, everybody.
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