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[30 Nov 2004|08:41am] |
Sorry guys...no updates since yesterday morning. Lots o' work being done on here by the Bolby. I'm back now, though. After I have supressed this battling in my bowels i'll be with you.
Put the water in the pot for me, ok?
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[30 Nov 2004|11:38am] |
Right, so......work yesterday was merely good enough for one thing; being ignored, largely. I got some cleaning done and was still late out, having sweated cleaning that fucking floor....I got out and immediately went home to find the computer was off limits, for good reasons...so I sat and ate sandwiches, watching Mona the Vampire and blinking. I then turned to the task of catching a fucking train to Broadstairs.
Guess what? Another delay, that's right...half a FUCKING hour, whilst a broken train was being removed. Fuck's sake. Still, I was no later than usual and slumped into college swinging my crappy old carrier bag.
We took a trip to the library and gazed at brightly lit up aisles, full of books.
Paul and Gary were talking to each other.
"Don Quixote, read that?" one said to the other...I prickled....looked up...of all the books they could have picked out and taken particular interest in.
I gazed at it, dumbfounded....that's the book..I may get that out soon...but what a coincidence..
At any rate...moving swiftly on as i'm on little time now...college ended with a discussion on the speech of General Patton, and a drive home saw me at the Bell again, watching Stoney getting barred for something he said. Selina was there too and also had to leave. Not content seeing my friends leaving like this, I later followed, and we ended the evening in the New Inn, having a knife waved around our faces by French Bloke (TM). More on him later. He's funny. Talked to Selina and Stoney a lot about label tearing, small town underbellies and bars.
Odd evening...perhaps i'll explain in more time and study.
Right, i'm off. That's all for now. Get out!
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[30 Nov 2004|03:53pm] |
Well, we had a giggle today. In the buckets of washing up from the previous night's party of nineteen, were some discarded cracker toys and jokes. A SMALL BOWLING KIT, composed of tiny skittles and ball, which Dave utterly failed to use effectively. He donned two paper hats whilst Andy read crap jokes in a monotone voice, which oddly made them very funny indeed.
Honestly, the chortles...they....we...ah...the thing.....
Yeah. Not very busy...got some cleaning done and the kitchen is all sparkly, which i'm oddly very proud of. And now, I await the sleepy one.
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[30 Nov 2004|04:34pm] |
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music |
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Quiet Storm Remix - Mobb deep. |
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This isn't a bad record..at all. quite a driving skip beat and nice rapping. You know I was very pleased to find that my tutor has an interest in political rap...namely my favourites...Public Enemy.
Fucking ace. Speaking of Chuck D and his chortlsome funsters...it's time I had a little look at what they're up to..
Whilst i'm doing that..i'll be doing some more mock DVD covers..soon.
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| Santa's Grotto |
[30 Nov 2004|07:45pm] |
"Come on Jimmy..I know it's hard for you, since the last time you came out of the house you were savaged by a drunk........but I promise the world isn't always that bad! Let's go see santa!"
"Ok mummy, i'm sure you're right...can't stay in forever..."
"Yes...that's the spirit....go on...hi Santa!"
"Hooh hooh hoooooohhh, why son, what's your name?"
"Jimmy, sir"
"Sit on my knee there, Jimmy...that's it..now what would you like for Christmas?"
"I'd like to helo myself get out more, and less scared of bad things happening.."
"You er.....wouldn't like a small plastic water cannon, then?"
"No..."
"OH FOR FUCK'S SAKE SON, what do you think I am, a cunting psychologist? I'm a fucking Santa..er...i'm Santa Claus! GOD! Get out of my sight...."
"WWWWWWWWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!"
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[30 Nov 2004|07:58pm] |
Gravity. It's a wonderful thing, unless you're being slung out of a plane. You know what..I feel like smoking a cigar that hits the other side of the room. I could do that now, if I was standing six inches from the wall. You lot are mice up for the trapping.
And this is the cheese. Take a walk with the tomatoes.
Coming this year: The Return of the King: Extended Extended Extended Version:
Gandalf becomes pure alcohol
Sam cries so much he douses Mt Doom simply with racking TEARS ALL OVER THE CUNT
Aragorn shaves his entire body, for reasons never explained. Immediately, DURING A SCENE. Without showing the action.
Loads more orcs, and a top thumping night out at Minas Morgul. You know when everybody goes out in that scene as the lads are climbing Cirith Ungol? Well, there's ONE ORC LEFT...who comes downstairs...finds nobody's home..immediately...he's going "This is GREAT! I can raid the fridge....rifle through the Nazgul's gear, and use the computer without anyone being on it!"
It's great fun at Mordor at the moment.
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[30 Nov 2004|08:01pm] |
Okay, it's eight. I'm nearly outta here, you lot should peruse these simple thoughts, based on the thinkings of a top philosopher, and certainly not merely typed by me for no reason at all:
"When is a yawn actually true? When it is combined with a cry? Do we not feel pain when those of us who stretch like burnt trees dying and lean accidentally into a big mangle? In short...how is an eagle beaked, when it's brethren are all being used to make absurd, battered tent pegs...surely the beak is not strong enough for such things? When is a question an answer? Perhaps this is one...perhaps not. Perhaps as a grizzly bear strikes, we lose an arm to make it feel stronger.....take my hand...it is unnecessary when your wild principals are threatened.
I hope this has made life a lot more crystalline, hazy grazers on the celestial path of merriment. Now go forth and swear a goat under your wing"
I'm sacking this bloke.
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