Sitting on a train. Boiling. Some bastard has pulled the emergency cord. May die while driver walks down the track to the last carriage. Urge to kill rising.
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OMG
The new Killers song sounds like Meat Loaf!
All kinds of extremely wrong.
coke zero
No. That is all.
It’s not easy
I find that I’m increasingly reaching for my blog entries. I’m desperate for subjects on which to write. Not because there’s nothing happening, but because, well, who cares? I could say things like "I love bitchy Daleks" or "Endemol’s attempts to keep Jayne in the house for one more week is tragically transparent" but what’s the point? I mean, did you see Love Island? I won’t make the point that it’s no longer Celebrity Love Island, and I won’t bother talking about anything that happened in it because it’s been done elsewhere, and by funnier and more incisive people than I.
So that’s TV over with. What about the real world? Do you think I’m insane enough to open this blog up to politics? I mean, I may be desperate for comments but not if they’re all nutty ones from people with bees in their bonnets. Note how the real world is shorthand for "current affairs" not "The Moth’s life", because no. Although I can say that it’s spider season again, which means that.. well, this morning I opened the door to take the recycling out and there was a perfect, beautifully woven web at face-height across the door. Nice! That got short shrift from me, and a newspaper was deployed to break up the arachnid artistry. Try writing moving messages about pigs if you don’t want me to smash your home, dudes!
Also, ants. One never likes to, you know, kill ants. But right now it’s us or them. I can’t sit at the computer and be covered in insects. No. Can’t happen.
Somewhat unapologetic
Wow, been a while since I posted, sorry. And since I last posted, a televisual event of major significance has begun!
I refer, of course, to Big Brother Seven. Ahh. Every year I get more entrenched in my love for Endemol’s televised sanatorium. I think at one time I was even a bit apologetic in my liking of it. “Yeah, but it’s, like, a social experiment and really interesting and that”. Fuck that, you know it’s all about who said what about whom and what they did under the blankets with whatsit and how the nominations went and that. This year is already aces. Sezer’s eviction renewed (or maybe created) my faith in the Great British Public (91.6%!!! In a three-way vote! Woo!) after their depressingly obvious dismissal of Bonnie. And the next big eviction (Grace) will be just as satisfying, though I expect the interview will be more fierce than Sezer’s was.
And I’m liking people! Aisleyne is great, she’s coming over very well indeed – perceptive, straight-talking, good-natured. So I expect her to be kicked out very shortly. Pete – slight dificulty dealing with conflict in any way aside – is also very sweet, much sweeter than anyone else in the house. He probably doesn’t deserve to be in there.
And Nikki, of course. The demented Harpy-child is the most consistently entertaining person in there. You’ve gotta love Nikki. You just couldn’t live with her.
Apologies for any typos, by the way. The real computer is busted up and in the repair shop. This is Flppy’s work laptop.
mysterious.
Last night I saw an advert in the window of WH Smith. It read "Liked The Da Vinci Code? Then you’ll love these.." and there, amongst the likes of "An illustrated guide to the Da Vinci Code" and "The Michelangelo Code" was… "The Da Vinci Code" by Dan Brown. Oh, really, WH Smith? If you liked The Da Vinci Code you’ll love the exact same thing? Ya think??
Anyway, yeah. I’m off to see the movie tonight. Very excited. It sounds *dreadful*. But in a hilarious, point-and-laugh sort of way.
Oh, dear.
Montenegro seem to have split with Serbia. Fine, sure, okay. But you know what this means? Another Balkan state to vote for all the others come Eurovision 2007. Bah, stupid splitters.
Not that it mattered this year. The best monsters won.
Ron Howard is GINGER and BALD.
We have a new bed. If HTML worked in these emaily posts, I’d put in a link, but suffice to say that it comes from the easily-Googled Warren Evans and it rocks. Between the new feather-and-down duvet and the feather-and-down mattress topper, one feels at night as if one is encased in a beautiful, soft coccoon. Lovely. Last night, we – in a completely innocent way – went to bed at 9pm, just to enjoy the feeling of being in bed. Brand new linen, ironed (god, I’m not doing that every time. I had the day off to let the guys in to build the bed, turns out I *actually* needed it to iron the linen), no more futon mattress… Just so good.
Okay, well, get on with your day, good people.
I am out of touch
Not with you, although I am. Hello, you. How are you?
Bulletin from da kids: Fat ties are in. This seems at odds with the current vogue for all things 80s, but you can’t argue with the way people knot their school ties. There never was a time when fat ties were cool for us at school. I feel old and weird just knowing this.
Talking of feeling old, what’s MySpace all about? Isn’t it just a load of old shit? I mean, why does everyone have a MySpace page? Shameless self-promotion? I genuinely don’t get it. I mean, I don’t like LJ but at least I understand it. MySpace seems to be filling a nonexistent void in the market. Nonexistent void – wow. There’s a conceptual mindwarp for you.
Teatime
Wow. Gosh, the cake was actually better today (the day after it was made). The lemon has soaked through the sponge and the slight (not unpleasant) egginess of yesterday has vanished, replaced with a mellow lemony taste and a subtle crunch where the syrup has hardened to a sort of glaze.
And I still have a little left. And more at home! Woo!