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[18 Dec 2006|01:05am] |
Well, hello munchkins. One seven day stretch, and it's Christmas. This time next week i'll be preparing for the onslaught, the festive furore, the yuletide parade.
Tonight was a pretty damned good night, all told. G, Tom and I got playing cards with David. He's a good sort, one of Mike and Anne's family down to visit. We all had fun and talked London, technology and life.
Good fun. Well, night then. I'll see you muncher crunchers tomorrow.
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[18 Dec 2006|11:17am] |
My favourite fucking saying of the week is "Yer know what really grinds my gears?"
It's from the Family Guy film, and it's what Peter says in that TV spot he does. You know what really grinds my gears? Working on a Monday, two days after working on a Saturday. I only just got freakin' relaxed, for crying out loud. It's freezing today, jackass...i've had to put on my winter jumper. Hey, at least it finally feels like Christmas. See you later, yeah?
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[18 Dec 2006|04:06pm] |
Another acheing bollock of a day so far. Another Christmas party. Another ton of people. Another day I just want to lie down and scream into a pillow.
But fuck work. We're playing Cluedo this evening. Corona beer and boardgames. I hope it cheers me up because i'm in a terrible mood. I shall go to it with a smile.
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| Merry fuckin' Christmas. |
[18 Dec 2006|04:32pm] |
Brilliant festive song from the Pogues and the late Kirsty MacColl. Lyric of the week:
It was Christmas Eve babe
In the drunk tank
An old man said to me, won't see another one
And then he sang a song
The Rare Old Mountain Dew
I turned my face away
And dreamed about you
Got on a lucky one
Came in eighteen to one
I've got a feeling
This year's for me and you
So happy Christmas
I love you baby
I can see a better time
When all our dreams come true
They've got cars big as bars
They've got rivers of gold
But the wind goes right through you
It's no place for the old
When you first took my hand
On a cold Christmas Eve
You promised me
Broadway was waiting for me
You were handsome
You were pretty
Queen of New York City
When the band finished playing
They howled out for more
Sinatra was swinging,
All the drunks they were singing
We kissed on a corner
Then danced through the night
The boys of the NYPD choir
Were singing "Galway Bay"
And the bells were ringing out
For Christmas day
You're a bum
You're a punk
You're an old slut on junk
Lying there almost dead on a drip in that bed
You scumbag, you maggot
You cheap lousy faggot
Happy Christmas your arse
I pray God it's our last
I could have been someone
Well so could anyone
You took my dreams from me
When I first found you
I kept them with me babe
I put them with my own
Can't make it all alone
I've built my dreams around you
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[18 Dec 2006|04:37pm] |
Jesus, Darlene Love did Christmas, Baby please come home on the Gremlins soundtrack. It wasn't the Ronnettes after all! I think i'm starting to feel Christmas!
Tie baubles to my bollocks and pull my cracker!
Ooooh yeah...
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[18 Dec 2006|04:50pm] |
Comparison.
Cohen. Original, not best.
Wainwright. Professional. Lacks dynamism.
Buckley. Still the best. Plaintive, sincere, beautiful. Less is more.
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