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[18 Oct 2006|12:44am] |
Hilarious. Phylly's track record with the ladies numbers one actual relationship. Truth is i'm not very good at it. Yet. I have much to learn, my friends, much. Even at the chortling heights of thirty, i'm still pacing myself. A good way of saying I haven't really got it sussed, and I admit it.
My early twinklings of romantic affection began with Nicola, who I saw (Not in the dating sense, more the just seeing her around the school) in secondary school. She was a beautiful raven haired short-arse with a cute smile and a predilection for saying "Know what I mean", something which now would likely make me want to bash my brains out on a fence post.
Of course, I had my crushes of celebrity kind. These days I regard celebs as no more than passing sexual attraction, as they are of limited interest other than what on the face of it you see. There is Mariah, a peculiar interest of mine whose music used to be musically adept and compelling, and now resembles a sort of diluted r&b mess, with sporadic yelping and tedious rap guests. As I always said, i'd still slip her a length. Don't know why. But hey, that's me for yer, eh? EH?
But back then I had crushes. Things change, as you can tell. Nowadays, I discern between wanting to fuck a celebrity and the real life phenomenom of loving somebody. But back then, I had a crush on celeb girlies.
Before M there was Rebekah Elmaloglu who I was genuinely convinced was going to be my wife.
http://www.celebrity-pictures-world.com/pictures/r/rebekah-elmaloglou/rebekah-elmaloglou.jpg
I even recored every episode of Home and Away, just to gawp at her Antipodean face. She's quite nice when you think about it. But it's odd, now I look at her and think..yeah..i'd give her one. But the faux love sadly fades with the distance. Real life girls are where it's at. Ain't it eh? EH? EH?
Funny story for you there, badly translated as always.
Tonight was in every sense of the word, quiet. None of my crew, aside Tom. We read the sports pages. That is sadly it. Goodnight then.
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[18 Oct 2006|01:33am] |
You know you've got to be teetering on the edge of boredom's squat when you're playing games on the BBC's website.
I think that's probably the most depressing experience i've had since I leafed through that conker almanac.
Night then!
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[18 Oct 2006|11:30am] |
I'm going to get rid of this poxy phone, or just use it to take blinding pictures of me in hats.
( Read more... )
We're having a great time. See you later.
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[18 Oct 2006|03:09pm] |
It's so nice having my mood slowly eroded by poxy old work. Today's no different. Shit. Shit and piss and shit.
Still, at least it's been raining. About all that's good about today, to be perfectly honest.
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| Lyric of the week. |
[18 Oct 2006|03:58pm] |
Culture sucks down words
Itemise loathing and feed yourself smiles
Organise your safe tribal war
Hurt maim kill and enslave the ghetto
Each day living out a lie
Life sold cheaply forever, ever, ever
Under neon loneliness motorcycle emptiness
Under neon loneliness motorcycle emptiness
Life lies a slow suicide
Orthodox dreams and symbolic myths
From feudal serf to spender
This wonderful world of purchase power
Just like lungs sucking on air
Survivals natural as sorrow, sorrow, sorrow
Under neon loneliness motorcycle emptiness
Under neon loneliness motorcycle emptiness
All we want from you are the kicks you've given us
All we want from you are the kicks you've given us
All we want from you are the kicks you've given us
All we want from you are the kicks you've given us
Under neon loneliness motorcycle emptiness
Under neon loneliness motorcycle emptiness
Drive away and it's the same
Everywhere death row, everyone's a victim
Your joys are counterfeit
This happiness corrupt political shit
Living life like a comatose
Ego loaded and swallow, swallow, swallow
Under neon loneliness motorcycle emptiness
Under neon loneliness motorcycle emptiness
Under neon loneliness motorcycle emptiness
Under neon loneliness everlasting nothingness
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[18 Oct 2006|05:19pm] |
This place is becoming a noisy back alley, full of shouting and screaming, banging doors and truncated words. Just having a window open lets a cacophony of prole speak.
Gah. It's incessant. I need a plasma cannon.
And children. Horrid, nasty, screeching little tossers.
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[18 Oct 2006|05:59pm] |
There are so many companies advertising "Injured? Get compensation", and so forth, it's almost become something of a conspiracy to get us all to injure ourselves for cash. They might as well say "Go on, bash your knee off against a post-box, lop off a limb with an axe, you'll make a killing". They'll soon be giving away free knives for you to cut your head off with, the problem being you'll be sueing them. With their help.
I wonder if I can get into a fight with a heron and sue it. Sue it's beak. I'll sue it's fucking beak off.
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[18 Oct 2006|09:19pm] |
Bordeaux 0-1 Liverpool.
That will do nicely, thanks.
I am afforded boozing company tonight, in the shape of the incomparable Richomoto. A relief after last night's cemetery-a-thon.
See you lot later.
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