| A little late night yearning for your reading. |
[03 Nov 2006|12:00am] |
Everybody talks about you, but I don't quite believe..
just yet..
you sit there in my arm..you're close to my chest,
you let me sleep at your breast...
but you're so out there in the night,
I can't catch you when i'm with others..
I can't see you..
just yet..
I sit with others..
and I bend back the covers..
fall upon old lines and old times,
while they're all living them,
and I can't just believe,
just yet...
I see new heartbreak,
new hearts alone on the floor,
and I can't belive,
not just yet...
but I know you're out there,
waiting with me,
you're kissing my forehead,
and putting me to bed,
every night,
but I just can't belive in you,
not just yet.
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[03 Nov 2006|12:30am] |
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cyber_City_Oedo
Take it from me, this is the show that made me want to be a crime fighting, ex-criminal brilliant uber-mental fighting genius.
I always wanted to be Sengokul.
Love ya, yeah?
Please give me a British dvd release, you fucking bastards.
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[03 Nov 2006|01:28am] |
Silveringidd made me smile tonight. Not only is she sexy, she is great with multi-coloured lettering.
And she needs to drink some Pernot. With water And ice!
Anyway, it's one thirty, so I think I should be knocking myself out like a light, for the night. Night!
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[03 Nov 2006|04:05pm] |
I need to stop smoking and drinking so much. Today a sharp stab of pain ripped through my chest. Not a good thing. At all.
Work was alright, and there's absolutely nothing else to tell you.
Oh, we have a bean machine in the Bell. It's for charity. Buy some beans. BUY SOME BEANS.
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[03 Nov 2006|05:18pm] |
To make life less dull and to therefore stop myself stoving my own skull in with a chair leg, i've recently undertaken a consistent effort in talking as much bollocks as possible, about everything.
Last night I was talking about growing beans in a petri dish, until they were as big as a horse. Is it possible to fucking grow a bean in a dish? Would it grow? I don't fucking know, what do I look like, a fucking candy hortilculturalist? Eh? Do I like like a fucking scientist?
Anyway, yes..we have a bean machine. When I came out of the kitchen last night I did done get myself a handfull of beans. They're for charity, but fuck that, they make me go off my tits, especially mixed with Murphy's and Pernot.
Of course, the bean concept could stretch to further machines, like a fucking baked bean machine, which dispenses a handful of cold congealed beans swimming in a shimmering slop of tomato sauce. They might not be very nice to eat, but they're make a FUCK of a food fight on a druken night. You could have a machine that dispenses morphine injections too, for nights when you're sitting at the bar wishing you were dead. You can slip fifty pence into the poxy thing and then wait for the syringe to stab your arm into happyland.
Enjoy.
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[03 Nov 2006|06:59pm] |
http://youtube.com/watch?v=b3yY8q7kM3E
As i'm feeling as funny as a crushed trombone at the moment, here's celebrity baiting, news spoofing Chris Morris with some Brass Eye. Shitting well watch it..
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[03 Nov 2006|08:27pm] |
Packed with some appalling singing, poetry reading, and some more demented thrashing about.
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