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[23 Oct 2004|12:12am] |
A fun night. Read some WH, a good three chapters, which is to somebody of my supposed literary development quite slacking, but still, good for a night of Guiness.
After trying to tackle tribulations and whatnot, various scowlings and happenings of Heathcliff and co....I made for the comfort of the bar. Ian seems to be relatively back to normal, as he gazed at my book and uttered "So when does Heathcliff fuck 'er then?"
To which I merely replied with a laugh and a "Oh no, you've ruined it now!"
"Actually, i've never read it!" he spluttered. I think he's halfway back to his old self. Even made a derogatory remark as to my hair. Hey, i've kind of missed it, in a way. In some fashion, this is welcome.
And I embrace it, it is familiar. Ian without sarcastic remark is like sea without salt.
So that's good. Had a very pleasant chat with Jim, a former pupil of King Ethelbert's...a man with short slick back hair, and genial countenance. We talked of erosion in English language and the onset of mobile text talk. Good stuff. Gordon joined us too, and we discussed our old school days...cross country and cold days in the pavillion fields...
Melanie, out with "The Girls (TM)", or as I call her...the Snitch....came over to embrace her love...and we all departed...I forgave a lift to walk the rapidly rising winds...now picking up in speed.....a glorious homecoming.
I remember something else. Mel's solice in knowing she was to enter the Bell with female friends...having a love to greet her...I wish I had that.
But I do not.
Perhaps this is for the future. Perhaps not. I would like to meet my lover after a night of drinking. Or the other way around.
I don't know. I'm hypothesising. Which after four and a half pints of stout is difficult. In fact, spelling that word - And you know which word it is - is fairly taxing after such an evening.
Still, at least I need not do so much as to try forming the paragraphs tomorrow morning. I shall greet you with the usual yawns and bacon sandwiches, and disdainful glances towards work.
For now, goodnight, my loves.
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[23 Oct 2004|09:26am] |
A grand dark morning...and surprisngly I don't feel the effects of last night's stout, though i'm sure it's waiting to surprise me later. Probably by knocking very loudly at my bowels.
Okay, let's see if the www.b3ta.com newsletter is out...
No. Dammit.
Okay, then. Have to read some back issuse. Work today, looks like i'm on my own for all of it, Lisa's not here tonight. Or there.
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[23 Oct 2004|10:58am] |
Oh dear. Apparently a film entitled "Surviving Christmas" is appearing like a shit snowflake falling onto the face...this one stars Ben Fucking Affleck, by the looks of it.
I can tell without synopsis of any kind that it will be something like a screwball comedy in which Ben tries by any means necessary to get home in time to see a birth/wife/both/a baseball game/stop a girlfriend getting back with a weasily ex boyfriend...whilst all the time being assisted by a bumbling thicko sidekick.
Let's see.
Astonoshing. It's about a lonely guy that rents himself a family for christmas. Absolutely. What amuses slightly is that a picture from the film features an actualy pleasing sight. A bearded angry man raising a bludgeoning device at the back of a chimp faced Affleck's head.
If only. America, please stop the madness NOW.
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[23 Oct 2004|11:08am] |
Okay, it's time for another godawful long drawn out episode of work. Jesus Christ please make it bearable...or at least quick.
I'll see you later, and i'll talk to you later, sweetie. Hopefully.
Ah, time to run that water again...wash away the yawns and stretches.
Bye for now.
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[23 Oct 2004|04:13pm] |
Good afternoon. Here I am, for my between Saturday Bell stints. Work wasn't too bad, but for the fucking slog of cleaning the bloody floor in a warm kitchen, heated further by an over baking lamb shanks.
Not pleasant. Energy sapping is a polite way of putting it. Tonight doesn't look too bad, which is just as well as my understudy is off tonight, and there's merely little old me washing up.
Around twenty six, I think...early days though. Hoping the weather will beat the rest indoors this evening. However, going by recent experience we'd have trouble keeping them away in the midst of an ice age, or a comet impact.
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[23 Oct 2004|04:44pm] |
Pooe Des is outside, in a cold rainy garden, looking as if a cloaked demon beaten and defeated.....he stares with pitiless eyes at the window. Well, if you want in Des, look something other than judgemental, darling.
I may open a window for this shambling mess on green lawn.
A headache has decided to make itself comfortable in the left side of my head...you're late...did you not remember last night's drinking, Mr headache? Why are you turning up now? Cup of tea? Or perhaps a paractemol. A kidney SHRIVELLING FUCKING ASPRIN.
Groan. I'm going to let Des in and tell him about it.
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[23 Oct 2004|05:54pm] |
Talking to Suz...an extremely pleasant way to spend my between shift sabbatical....she's incredible. Good one, then.
Got to get ready for work soon. I shall be sad to leave the computer. Some more tea before that, and some more good time chat.
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[23 Oct 2004|06:36pm] |
Well, that was an exceedingly cool chat. Loved every minute......the exchange of two minds equal really is a wondorous thing.
Okay, you 'orrible lot...step to it, fiddle with your browsers....eat something, have a cup of tea, and i'll see you all tomorrow.
Work awaits. Then drinking.
Goodnight
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