| We did laugh |
[May. 1st, 2005|12:25 pm] |
Went to sleep at around 3.30am this morning. Woke up and it said 6.27. Cue utter, utter freak out, wondering why I'd not been called for a bollocking for missing a dress rehearsal.
One small part of my brain was saying 'yes... that would be 6.27am dear. Your phone clock is a 24hr format...' but it was being overidden by the sheer panic.
I ran down to the living room, and tried to ascertain what time it really was by looking out of the window.
'Hmmm, that's very dawn-like'
"No!, it could be dusk as well!!!!"
Wee check of the oven clock...
'still says 6.27...'
"But is the oven clock a 24 hr clock?!"
phoned the speaking clock
'he's saying 6.27...'
"Oh christ! He doesn't specify whether it's am or pm!!!"
finally cinched it by looking out of the window at KFC, which was shut.
Therefore it was definately 6.27am.
Fuck's sake.
Over-tired, anyone? I incidentally have 9 mouth ulcers at the moment. My doctors would kill me if they got their hands on me.
Ho hum. Off to another rehearsal then. |
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| Lovely |
[Apr. 13th, 2005|12:22 pm] |
Been coughing up splendidly verdent shades of stuff today. Hope it means I'm actually getting better.
News in brief -
I keep getting calls at all hours from a withheld number. Which I don't answer, but they don't leave messages. Fuck off already.
My skin has done the good old 'London Hangover' breakout that it never fails to perform. I have 3 spots. Three! Have been trying to find our plague bell in the house, but it would appear to be on Mother's Show and Tell table at school once again, so I'm making do with tea tree oil and mirror avoidance.
I've subjected myself to the horrors of television several times - no wonder I don't bloody have one, it'd be destroyed within days from my hurling things at the inbred scavenging ugly cunts they allow on to explain precisely why they don't feel they have to even attempt to get a job or an education. I nearly bit through my sleeve and arm watching 'Skint' last night avec pater. He seemed quite calm about it; there must be a lot of this kind of trash on the box, huh?
Caught a glimpse of Trisha over my porridge this morning too. Featuring possibly the World's Ugliest Woman who was just... vile. And Trisha ripped the utter fuck out of her. I was quite impressed, and even resisted throwing the spoon at the screen.
Hmmm... I think lunch is on the cards, followed by good old work on shit I should know already. *hacks up more semi-solid goo* They should market this stuff, really. Cheap as hell and vastly entertaining. |
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| Whoooo |
[Apr. 9th, 2005|09:33 am] |
Sat in Gatwick airport. There are police walking around with Big Fuckoff Guns.
They seem keen to stand near me. This could be because I'm typing whilst looking all around at the same time.
Just bought lots of stuff in Boots. Now have 1 min before I am kicked off my beloved internet. Bah. I could of course pay more to stay on, but I think I should maybe find where the fucking gate is, yanno....
Speak to youse later....
x |
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| Ho hum |
[Apr. 7th, 2005|11:23 pm] |
Sat in Lunnon nabbing the computer briefly. Well, it *is* in my room.
Just watched the Life Before Birth programme. Somewhat disturbing watching a baby's head being slowly squeezed out, actually. Apparently once the head is out, the rest comes out with a 'spoooosh' sound.
Having marvellous fun, although rather tired. La laa.... |
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| Disgusting... |
[Apr. 1st, 2005|11:37 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  disgusted. | ] | 
Who the fuck has their child's ears pierced at under 10 fucking weeks of age?
I feel sorry for the poor bloody rat.
In other news, I held my first ferret today. He was the fucking bomb. Like a chunky articulated rat.
Bloody great.
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| The O.C |
[Apr. 1st, 2005|06:30 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | pissed | ] | Not, as you may think, that programme which is apparently on the television, but instead The Orange Cunts.
(And no, not the marchers, either. I'm talking about the inept phone company.)
So apparently the contract I took out in August 2003 was meant to last a year. This was for 180 free minutes and 250 texts. Per month. Now this wasn't mentioned at the time, and I believe the only thing I read about this in the small print was 'contract must be taken out for a minimum of 12 months.' Not 'contract will randomly expire 18 months after you've taken it out and been reassured by the chaps in the shop at the time of upgrade that the talk plan will remain the same.'
Bill arrives today, for 3 times the normal amount. Ummm... On the phone to the delightfully Geordie 'Lindsey' I am informed that 'they text messages were meant to stop last August.'
Obviously I correct her, and not just her grammar. But she doggedly maintains that it was only meant to be a year. And then becomes very vague over why exactly I had a further 6 months of 250 texts and then no warning on the monthly statement that these would stop in March. Why would this be? This would be, Lindsey, because Orange are cockwits.
Upon being told I wished to speak to somebody to change my talk plan, I was informed that the supervisor (aye right...) would call me back in 5-10 mins.
Half an hour later, the equally well-spoken Yvonne phones me, and we run through the entire problem again. Mainly because she cannot grasp it.
Of course, there is nothing they can do, and there are obviously no reasonable value talk plans available now, so I have to downgrade to 60 free minutes and 120 texts for £2 more per month than I was paying before.
Fuckwits. |
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| Must have chocolate... |
[Mar. 29th, 2005|10:51 pm] |
See subject.
Have had a few sugar free sweets today, and some more strawberries. Cutting back on the sugar has bizarrely meant that I've upped the salt intake. Tres healthy, although not that bad as I don't put salt *in* anything so it's not like I've done a Glaswegian and started hammering it onto everything I eat before I've even tasted it.
Fucking proles.
On topic; just how *do* you get the stones out of these Kalamata olive things without destroying either the olive or your fingers (filleting knives are fucking sharp, Alexa...) - there must be an easy way, otherwise do people just employ small nigerian children with scalpels to sit by their greek salad preparation area?
Off topic; having been increasingly allergic to the steel back of my beloved Armani watch, my plan to usurp it with a nice cuff style bad boy which would protect the delicate wrist of Moi from the evils of Nickel was thwarted today when I was outbid last minute on the DKNY watch I rilly, rilly wanted.
Cue several minutes of growling and gnashing of teeth on my part. Then I started looking for alternatives, as I do rather need a watch.
I was just about to do a Buy It Now on the very slightly less pleasing Guess number that had been on watch as my second choice, when I clicked back onto My eBay, and lo, there was a second chance offer for the original price I bid.
Mmmmmmmmm.... "Buy"
Thank Gawd for credit cards. :D |
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| *climbs walls* |
[Mar. 28th, 2005|11:46 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | bit irritable... | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Mozart -Don Giovanni | ] | Want chocolate.
Gnarr!
And it's only been about 30 hours since I last had it!!
Have discovered a real taste for kalamata olives in the last 2 weeks. I used to loathe olives, but evidentally I now have mature enough taste buds for them. *snorts*
Olive wrapped around a wee cube of feta cheese - heaven. Mmmmmm...
must resist another.
I have had sugar today, in the forms of a few strawberries, a teaspoon of honey in my porridge, and the sweet potato I had for tea which worked out verrrry nicely.
That's not bad for a complete sugar junkie, is it?
*foams at mouth a little* |
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| Beauty is truth; truth beauty. |
[Mar. 28th, 2005|06:30 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  accomplished | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Holst - Choral Symphony | ] | ( Memething ) |
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| *whistles* |
[Mar. 23rd, 2005|01:29 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  amused | ] |
I'll get the strap-on out then...
:p |
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| Umm |
[Mar. 20th, 2005|11:05 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  tired | ] | Not really updating very often at the moment, am I?
In a nutshell - ( working, singing, rehearsing, working, eating, singing, rehearsing, working, eating, rehearsing, working... ) |
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| Made oi larf |
[Mar. 6th, 2005|02:00 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  lazy | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Puccini - La Boheme, Act IV | ] | Maddox's guide to Manly Suicide.
Feeling somewhat more human. Although still a bit dazed. Remembered to send mother a Happy Mother's Day-esque text message, although I had already sent her gift to work - I was going to get her one of those Thorntons iced Plaque things written from the dog, saying "I like sniffing front bottoms!" (probably shouldn't ask...), but for some bizarre reason I decided the postage was too high on the Thorntons website, so I - logically - bought her a wholesale kilogram of her favourite Pick n Mix Sweet and had it Parcelfarced to her work instead.
This method gave me a grand saving of about minus £4.
Flat looks like Kosovo, and can I find the inclination to tidy it? Can I buffalo.
Maybe a shower will help. And maybe it'll just send me to sleep again. |
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| Shower of shite! |
[Mar. 6th, 2005|12:49 am] |
| You scored as Eating Disorders. Congratulations! You have an eating disorder! You know what it's like to have "fat" eyelids and that there's exactly 58 calories in one medium-sized green apple. Western society has discarded your well-being for sickly, paper-thin models and celebrities; welcome to the club, sister.
Eating Disorders | | 67% | Borderline Personality Disorder | | 58% | Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder | | 50% | Unipolar Depression | | 42% | Schizophrenia | | 42% | Antisocial Personality Disorder | | 17% |
Which mental disorder do you have?
created with QuizFarm.com |
News in brief - proper accidental bender on Thursday night involving too much alcohol and half a fake boa constrictor. Essentially not been right since.
Think I shall now have a 12 hour sleep and see if I can kick start my act back into gear. |
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| and another thing... |
[Mar. 2nd, 2005|02:30 pm] |
Got a letter yesterday informing me I owe the establishment £1170 for this term's fees.
Which should have been paid at the end of last term, apparently.
Ho hum.
They want me to pay them by friday.
*digs in sofa*
they can have... 14 pence, a pen, and Ooh! Nailclippers! Was wondering where they'd got to.
Suitable excuses to be posted below, ta. Think I shall email them as I'm fucked if I'm going to meet the scary finance woman. |
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| Gnnnarrrr |
[Mar. 2nd, 2005|12:35 pm] |
Getting the feeling I may be a little more irritable than usual. Considering the number of people I have outright blanked recently so that I didn't attack them in a frenzy of hair ripping and ear biting, the fact that I today consider myself to be more irritable is a bit concerning, even to pyscho menstrual girl here.
Took rodents to the vets this morning, even though the abcess had burst, as they've lost a bit of condition and I wanted them checked.
Of course, this meant two bus journeys, packed with the walking fucking dead. The rats decided 5 minutes into the first bus journey that they would do a dirty protest, and proceeded to get covered in semi-solid, gag-inducing shit.
As the smell permeated up through the carrier, I desperately tried to shift and cover the top of the box with my pashmina, and then my upper torso.
No use.
Of course, the bus not only took the longer diversion route, but stopped at every single traffic light on the way.
The walk to the next stop involved those fantastic high speed winds you can only get on Renfrew Street, small stupid children with their braindead mothers, and more senile, crippled pensioners than you could shake a stick at. It felt like a bizarre computer game, only one where real blood was actually going to be shed any second.
Got to the vets 10 mins late, and must have looked ready to maim, as the receptionist said it was totally fine and encouraged me to sit down.
The journey home was almost as bad, just minus the rat shit, as I'd gotten rid of that at the vets. More crazy old people, complete with double sticks that take up the whole pavement. Hoards of young, orange-haired, stodgy looking mothers with large prams and children with Irn Bru bottles welded to their faces.
Think I may get a Best Before End tattoo that expires me when I'm about 65. |
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| Laaaa |
[Mar. 2nd, 2005|12:36 am] |
So le rodente's lump is thankfully not a tumour, but an abcess. Which just got opened. If you've never experienced the smell of the stuff inside, just be really thankful. I'd managed to almost forget it since the last abcess I had to clean, but even with a cold I struggled.
But still. Less lumpy rodent as a result. Although I hurt him and he cried. Poor little fucker.
He recovered fast and spent muchos time snuggled safely into me, so I took some pics of them both, when I could actually co-ordinate all three of us with a low-battery camera.
( Ignore the (wo)man behind the cur, I mean, rodents. ) |
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[Feb. 26th, 2005|01:07 pm] |
LJ was being a cock last night, and wouldn't let me post an entry. So I waited until now, with it secretly cut-and-pasted somewhere, to surprise it with my skill and emminent cunningness.
Er...
Haircut= good. I rather like it. Which of course means there is no chance I will ever recreate it successfully. Tempted to varnish it now.
Rats = Algos has a lump. Little fucker. Am waiting a day or two to see if it's an abcess, as these two seem quite prone to them.
Health = The fuck. New larynx for table 12 please.
I discovered tonight that for the first time ever I have not one Ibuprofen in the house. I have at least 4 types of narcotic analgesic, of which I am munching on two, and a fair amount of paracetamol. I also have good old Vioxx and Voltarol. Hurrah.
But I want Brufen. I have a swollen tonsil, and I want anti-inflammatories, dammit.
( That 10 things Meme ) |
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| laaa laaaaaaaaa |
[Feb. 18th, 2005|12:53 am] |
Happy Birthday to mesdames ![[info]](http://library.vu.edu.pk/cgi-bin/nph-proxy.cgi/000100A/http/web.archive.org/web/20050521081434im_/http:/=2fstat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) sharmaya and joysilence
I would sing it, but it would presently sound like a hoarse toad stuck in Barry White's larynx... Which, you might like, mind... |
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hungover