|
[26 Dec 2004|09:58am] |
You know, if you took all the Christmas trees in the world and put them together...you'd have a job shifting the cunts, because it's fucking well over!
Yes, like a pink bat in a fox nightclub, it's finished rather abruptly, bar the leftovers, shouting, and the rather joyless drunken gatherings. In some ways i'm glad, the work yesterday was unusually easy and over in a matter of a few hours. After I'd spoken to Suzy, however, I tried to sleep sans evening drinking and could not. Not even tiny faced rotten actress Jennifer Lopez and one of her shit films pumping out on BBC1 like an Xmas killing bookend could knock me to sleep.
No, just reminded me how much I hate the woman. Did watch a dvd Dan lent me though. Another case of rappers being actors. "How High" features Redman and Method Man, putting unusually good turns in as freshmen who turn a university over. It's really not as bad as it sounds, and features a few laugh out loud moments. Meth screaming at a dead hand, being one.
At any fucking rate, I was asleep about 2:30am I suppose. Not too bad this time. I'll have to thrown back a few tonight. Not at the Bell though, that's closed for the evening. I shall visit during it's small opening time this afternoon.
|
|
|
[26 Dec 2004|10:42am] |
Would have thought not drinking last night would mean better sleep. It hasn't, i'm still tired and not enjoying the morning, in which i'm yawning, sneezing, and very irritable.
Fuck it all. I'm going to go out and drink soon. Utterly miserable day in prospect apart from that. Sobriety on Boxing Day is not for me. I think i'll watch the 100 Best nervous breakdowns and have one of my own whilst I knock back the family Taboo. CUNT CARDS.
|
|
| This is cunting shit. |
[26 Dec 2004|10:48am] |
You Know You're From Britain When... |
You believe that Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday and Saturday are all good nights for drinking. Sunday day is also entirely reasonable.
You're always a half an hour late to work ... no-one notices or cares.
Coming to work with a hangover is entirely accepted and indeed expected at least once a week.
You can actually give directions to some of those annoying tourists in Oxford Street!
You step over a drunk in the tube station rather than offering to help them.
You don't even bother looking out of the window when you get up in the morning to check what the day is like. You know it is overcast.
You consider a suit to be normal attire for the pub.
You expect men to actually cut, comb and style their hair (using hair products). And to wear decent clothes.
You dissolve in laughter when listening to the funny accent of the Aussie international telephone operator (or on TV!).
You think £40 for a haircut is quite reasonable.
You can't remember what 'customer service' means.
After a big night out you find yourself looking for a Curry house
More than three hours sunlight on summer days seems excessive.
You don't think twice about tipping your hairdresser
You finish every sentence with 'Cheers' or 'Yeah'.
You only just realise you have lost your sunnies, you left them in Greece 2 summers ago.
You like English cuisine. I mean, it's hard to beat a full English breakfast.
You are on to your 6th umbrella and your second overcoat... this year
You've bought a disposable baby BBQ from Tesco.
A day at the beach means wearing the warmest clothes you own while standing on golf ball-size pebbles and the thought of swimming doesn't even enter your head.
You always call soccer football and you have a team and it's not Manchester United.
You don't think twice about buying a packaged sandwich.
A sunny lunchtime means searching for a patch of grass and stripping off practically down to your underwear
You've accepted queuing as a way of life.
You believe that every American is a fatass addicted to hamburgers and hotdogs.
You despise the French (but then, who doesn't?).
You actually get these jokes and pass them on to other friends from Britan.
|
I do not despise the French.
|
|
|
[26 Dec 2004|10:58am] |
In one week, London. This week; slightly less interesting. The waiting, is the hardest part...oh the...hang on..that's a shit song.
So what to watch today then? Might check out that film I gave Bolb, the animated version of Ichi the Killer, replete with a crying man's FACE in the inside of the cover. If there's one thing the Japanes do well, it's fearful bawling in Manga. Oh yes.
Oh god...Mould's laying up a table with a flowery throwoever...the nice cutlery is out (I.e, the utensils people that aren't US get when they come round), which means somebody is coming round. And you know what that means; Me, out, now.
Or when the luke warm tea runs out.
|
|
|
[26 Dec 2004|11:29am] |
Well, there are choirs happy to be alive on the radio now, and sweets everywhere...so i'm getting out before something goes down here.
Bye then.
|
|
|
[26 Dec 2004|05:48pm] |
Boxing day. I wore my new beige top today....looking in the mirror I was utterly surprised by how good I looked. I mean, really. Long hair, hazel eyes, light top. I am happy. I look like I should be hanging around skiing centres, saying jokes next to burning log fires.
I'm quite good today. I've decided. Today i'm attractive. That is my last for a year, then. Braved the cold ceaseless sunny winter's day to go to the Bell, where I was greeted with Guiness and a nice warm pub, complete with a raffle. I won nothing, but the pleasing atmosphere of people talking and the relaxation of not washing up was enough.
Visited the New Inn with Graham afterwards, and got olives from a tiny machine, smoked cigars, and watched a porrly attended football screen as a low turnout played pool, got drunk and chortled in the background. Having declared ourselves tired enough, Graham and I went home. Watched some of "the bear" with Bolb, and ate some duck. And that's yer lot.
|
|
|
[26 Dec 2004|06:37pm] |
|
Stoney just arrived. Apparently Lucy and Beetle are having a party at their house. I would go normally, but after Christmas and afternoon drinking, I have no energy to go whatsoever. I think i'd heard about it through a hazy text or something but didn't have time to pay attention. At any rate, i'm more tired than drunk and am staying well and truly in tonight.
|
|
|
[26 Dec 2004|07:35pm] |
So tired. I think I may go to bed soon, but the fact is that if I do, i'll lie awake until three in the morning. This is Christmas to me, thanks very much you red suited cunt. Feel pretty dreadful to be honest, and I miss Bean.
Fucking Boxing Day.
Talk about humourless. Perhaps I should start presenting local news.
|
|
|
[26 Dec 2004|09:42pm] |
Ok, guys. I'm off to bed very shortly.....with some wine and chocolate. I am back to work, thankfully for once...tomorrow.
See you then, folkies.
x
|
|