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[14 Oct 2004|08:30am] |
What was I going to say?
Oh yes...the last night of Ian free action at the Bell. Bolb and I, talking about Final Fantasy mostly, music of especially guarantees the fun.
Her load is through. She's going shopping today.....
"Something great about going shopping by yourself!" she enthused as we stumbled through Minster's rainy streets home, at which she slung on a cauliflower cheese and I checked the emails.
I went to bed, hanging around in the bathroom to look at my wet hair, soaked by the rain, and now unbelievably dark, bringing out my eyes as never before. At this point, something like a tiny voice told me I was handsome...being a BDD suferrer this is not a regular ocurrence. But I liked the look, i was dressed head to toe in black, my hair down on each side nicely, my stare intent and full of expression. Was like some sort of dark prince, or something. I was that which I see myself in my mind.
And I felt great about myself. It's not vanity, i'm so used to hating myself, if anything it's a shock to like what I see. But I did. Fuck you, BDD.
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[14 Oct 2004|08:40am] |
This weather is glorious. It's a day for getting beaten by wind along cliff edges, flirting with the edge, not cocking about with plates in a babysitting-for-adults pub.
Yes, it's OAP day. Groan. What is utterly bewildering is...they come out more on days when they really should stay in, I happen to think that when some of these elderly folks even step a foot outside house in winds of sixty miles an hour, their next movement is usually to lose said leg with the wind.
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[14 Oct 2004|10:09am] |
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music |
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Rammstein - Stripped |
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Going Loco, down in Blurty...er...alco...
If you stay too long...
Yes you'll be, picking the heads of people like peanuts
You great big fucking wrong.
Sung to the tune of "Going Loco down in Acapulco"
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[14 Oct 2004|10:36am] |
Just been thinking about the supposed mergeing of life in the Bell. You know I always thought the people were the same, and I suppose that largely, they are of similar mindset.
Then again, there's the contrast between myself and other men in there. Take Scouse Pete, a fat shouting Liverpudlian, who is the biggest insult to Liverpool since that sketch on Harry Enfield. A man who wears shirts that look like an explosion in rainbow factory. And with shaven head to boot.
Then there's me...mid length dark hair, menacing stare, preference for black clothing, and laughing about stoats. It's an uneasy mess, our pub.
Really FUCKS me off though, that although I get a little abuse for having growing hair, wearing dark clothes, and such...it's nothing compared to our new barman..Sam...if anything one of the coolest people i've ever seen here. Long straight hair, he looks like someone out of westernised Manga.
And can you IMAGINE the abuse he gets for this? From the leering men mountains? Snorting over their fat little hands and flat beer.
Cunts. Leave him alone, you ignorant fucks. Just because the only image you're used to is your own regimented conformity of ageing LAD.
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[14 Oct 2004|10:44am] |
Been saying it for a year now, but soon i'm going to buy more cool jewellery. I've got the taste...those ace spiky bracelet things Stuart got me have got me interested in buying new things to sling around my neck and arms.
It must be done! I may go for a little dragon from that Alchemy collection. Or simply nail a Kinder Egg to a fucking necklace.
Nadia Sawahlla is simpering to the dying on television again. Lord let them change places.
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[14 Oct 2004|03:57pm] |
Nice afternoon. Last one I get to work in a reasonably pleasurable atmosphere before Ian returns tonight and sucks the life out of the workers again.
Forty two people, busier than it sounds. Melanie and I are getting on better, don't know why; maybe because i'm enjoying myself and so is she...perhaps that's all that matters in the end.
Don't know how long that'll last.
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| Final Fantasy x: Yuna's up for it. |
[14 Oct 2004|04:06pm] |
Okay, new background. A beautiful wallpaper, this...don't be fooled by Yuna's sweet expression, though...she drinks like a fucker...honestly.
Take last week, out with Kimahri and Auron. Giving it some in the bar.
Auron: I don't like it here, it's full of thieves and vagabonds...can we go to the wine bar?
Yuna: Fuck's sake, Auron...yeah....er....right....Guiness for me...what about you Kimahri? Saucer of milk?
Kimahri: Yuna not need to buy a drink for Kimahri. Kimahri not thirsty.
Yuna: What's wrong with me buying you a drink? What's the problem? LIKE WHAT'S THE FUCKING PROBL...
Jez: Yes, love...
Yuna: Er..get him a milk....piss warm please...he's house trained...Auron?
Auron: Sake, please...in this...
Jez: You can't bring that in here...
Auron: WHAT?
Jez: We have glasses.
Auron: I don't want a glass.
Jez: 'ere, what's she up to now?
Yuna: YYEAH! Jukebox! I'm putting Cooper Temple Clause on...
Auron: No, Yuna! You can't put gil in there! You'll fuck up the mechanism!
Yuna: Stupid thing. Euergh! Anyone want a game of pool? Kinahri, give me your lance, i'll use it as a cue, Auron, you're up, hit those balls with yer sword...*ssscrippp* oops...felt ripper..
Jex: YOU'RE BARRED. ALL OF YOU.
Yuna: Not again. Cunting hell.
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[14 Oct 2004|05:00pm] |
I've got to do some homework after work. That's assuming I can get out of the kitchen with enough time to do any writing at all.
Just the table of six, then. I have to get scribbling on the vocabulary of Ms Bronte. Well, let's see, if I can sucessfully emulate this and use it in the way that she does i'm half way there.
Of course not as well, that's some heavy literary shit, if you know what I mean. Must get that film with Fiennes in...the great big roll eyed git.
Only joking, he's a groovy bloke.
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[14 Oct 2004|05:45pm] |
Been reading a lot of  shakingthetree's journal, as i've not read much of the archive stuff yet. Girl, you have seriously good writing ability. Honoured that you think so much of mine too. Just sorry it took me so long to dip into the past.
The parents and I are having steak pudding today, with some nice minted gravy from the Bell. It's going to be rather. Tonight, yes...work...and then an hour or two's study. I will hopefully experience a flash or inspiration, or a pint of Guiness. Hopefully both.
Or one of them.
Still wondering who that girl was with Anne. I liked her. I'm wondering if she'll come in again. I kind of need to test myself a little. Mainly because, she doesn't know me, and so won't be attatched or nuts, or see me as a really "sweet" bloke, who's a really good friend. Yet.
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[14 Oct 2004|05:50pm] |
This rain spell is comforting me. I like the wrapping myself in my denim coat (Only £10!), earmuffing myself with headphones providing a sort of mini protection for my lugholes, and stepping quickly through dark Minster streets, dancing amongst puddles and looking pitilessley at chavs.
Autumn is mine now. Not yours. Suggest you find yourselves another season.
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[14 Oct 2004|05:56pm] |
You dripped wine from your lip
like it was blood
I caught it with my tongue
it was sweet,
vintage
like water sweetened from a stream
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[14 Oct 2004|05:57pm] |
I'm having a creative crisis. I cannot write as flowingly as I usually do, due to one overriding facet of my life; and that is that nothing particularly different is happening. I work, I drink, I leave the village once a week to go to college. Other than the odd night at the New Inn, nothing much is variant...and I am bored with trying to describe the describable. It's too easy.
These writings are as familiar as the bending pavements to me...the wooden worn bar....the curled up cat with another stalking the customers for food.
The little stool he sits on near the kitchen door, causing Melanie to yelp as she walks past with a person's meal, and recieves a scratch for her troubles. Poor Melanie.
She did that look today. The one that reminds me how......mmmmmm she can be.....I don't see it often from her...it's the smile over the shoulder, the laugh...coquettishness mixed with sexiness.....can't deny it. I do regret sometimes the failings in our friendship. But hey, we're both doing pretty well.
So that's okay.
Anyway, yes. I need some new things to happen, and that is up to me. I'm going to have to decide on whether I want to push this myself, or let others do it.
And I can't rely on that.
When I think about it, on the occasions I DO leave the village, something appears to take place...I meet someone new, I get into a conversation, before you know it, i'm going home, and no...I won't be out again, i'll be in Minster, in the Bell.
That said, Ian's back tonight, so i'm sure i'll have more to tell you about him spitting "YOU STILL NOT HAD YOUR BLOODY HAIR CUT, PHYLLIS?" at me.
Which is something, I suppose.
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[14 Oct 2004|06:08pm] |
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Apparently Mcdonalds are modifying their familiar "M" sign in a bid to revamp their flailing profits. The proposed replacement is an "?", which I think is actually a great idea. Why? Because they're finally admitting in a way with this singular symbol, that even they don't know what the FUCK is in their burgers.
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| What will make you love me? |
[14 Oct 2004|06:15pm] |
"I can't believe you're being like this....."
"You slept with my best friend!"
"Yeah...you're talking about something that happened yesterday!"
".................."
"oh, I see your point...."
"Get out"
"What if I told her she could only date me when you're in the room? You could see how well we get on!"
"OUT!"
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| Phyllis.....it really wouldn't work... |
[14 Oct 2004|06:17pm] |
"You enjoying yourself? Nice place eh?"
"Yeah, it's definately the most reasonably priced bus station i've been too"
"Isn't it? Fancy another peanut?"
"No."
"Anyway, right....you'd LIKE ME....honest! Yesterday....I ran around a big garden and screamed at conkers, i'm all romantic too, I can smoke whilst sitting thoughtfully on a disused barbeque."
"I'm going home"
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| From Suz's journal: |
[14 Oct 2004|06:33pm] |
I suffer from depression. I am a strong, intelligent, capable person. I am neither weak nor stupid nor lazy. Depression is an illness that millions of people suffer from and there is nothing wrong with admitting you need help sometimes.
If you've ever felt this way, copy this and paste it into your Blurty. Maybe if we started talking about how we survive depression, we'll realize we aren't alone.
Yeah, strikes a chord...always.
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[14 Oct 2004|06:54pm] |
Phylly Boy now leaves, to shower and things. The tedious rigmarole of hair combing, aftershave putting on, swearing, picking up things, putting them down, forgetting keys, getting keys, going back again to tie hair back.
And then a bloody Thursday evening shift. Fuck's sake.
Until tomorrow, bye for today.
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