On the night of the non-date I will take the time to write something for a change, instead of one liners or blogging a picture or something something from somewhere.
Can someone tell me what happened? I don’t know what happened. I think I was a Throwawayfuck all because I was too much tough talking – but maybe I was just a Throwawayfuck – but I don’t know.
It was all because of a pair of shoes in TOPSHOP. I tried them on. I kind of wanted them. But did I really? – no I didn’t = because I wouldn’t have thrown them down on my way to the till to buy them the first night. The following evening I went back WANTING THEM. They were blue and suede with heels and nice enough. A second before I requested my size, two teens had asked for them. There was only one pair. They sat there nursing them while the better looking one of the two tried on two sequinned gold jackets. Both jackets were horrible and looked cheap and looked really really horrible. I sat quiet and WAITED for this shoes. They were cradling the box, they were petting it. They hadn’t even tried them on. I just wanted them. I left in the end totally frustrated thinking “WHY OH WHY AND WHAT THE FUCK AM I DOING?!” Because the night I had tried on the shoes and rejected them I had been to the pub and the guy that worked there told me his girlfriend had moved out kind of randomly. I had wanted to go out on a date with this guy for the longest time.
Anyway – I just had to cut myself short there. I asked this guy out. We had a great time for about a week.
Then I had a really horrible time.
Now I am having no time.
And most of all I ask myself the question “What the fuck were you doing in TOPSHOP anyway?” It turned me into a Throwawayfuck.
But see how I didn’t really want the shoes? The man kissed like the only other Italian I kissed – straight tongue and used it like a dribbley sword. Not that hot. It improved.
As you can see, this is probably why I haven’t written so much on my blog lately. My brain in like alphabet soup.
SOME GOOD THINGS COMING UP THOUGH: Parisian visitors BOOYAH!!! Maybe I go to Nantes again!!! Going to Australia in March 10 via Singapore WOOHOO!!!
Which will all go to heal the shame of being a Throwawayfuck all for the sake of a pair of TOPSHOP shoes. Bwwwaaarrrfghhh.
You are possibly the most hideous person I have had the misfortune of knowing and I knew right from the second I met you that you were vile.
Speaking of other mean girls, after trying to walk the kitten on a lead [that is to say get the collar on her and drag her on her side to the back door with it] Hobart has decided payback comes in the form of clawing my new rug which I just rolled out about 15 minutes ago. All the bushels of wool that she is digging up she chews up. My payback will be laughing when she coughs up a fur ball. Then her payback will be my broken heart as I sit and watch her all stressed and worried that I have to call the Pet Ambulance. And when she is okay again I will feed her some THRIVE freeze dried shrimps.
I had a funny evening this evening with Mr 40something who had obviously had a very boozy lunch and was telling me how life was so horrible and depressing and stressful. He also said that I did nothing but take the piss out of him. But that I was also the person who was the most polite and respectful to him as well. [Aussie humour.] Then he asked me if I wanted a glass of wine. Worried he might have a sex den in his basement I said that he was welcome to bring the wine upstairs. He said he would be 5 minutes. After 35 I finished what I was doing and went home. Poor fella. He had splits in the crotch of his pants where they had worn through.
Oh – and Lady Gang alert – I’m double dog baby sitting with Mrs Kipling on Saturday night at the most luxurious flat in town. Anyone else want to come and watch the Nollywood channel and polish of a few bottles of something? The Booyah Cook may or may not make an appearance. Depends how much we want Pizza instead.
Oh dear Allah, not feeling so hot today although my look fucking ROCKS. Leather boots, soft pleated a bit Fletcher Jones skirt, A.P.C. sweater and white collar blouse. So for as prim and proper that I look, just to let you all know I feel like dying inside. Not only that, the shop is cold and damp. I’m freezing.
I’ve ‘enjoyed’ the morning so far by updating websites, working on lameatnames etc etc and it seems that I am not the only one rocked by Internet industry. Mr Chips / Philip Thompson has now started a photo blog with his amazing work. He just keeps getting better and better. Valeria tells me that she wants to move to Jaywick because of his pictures. So please if you are cold and just not feeling it today, you can look at PHILIP THOMPSON’S PHOTOS here.
Pippa has promised that she will come in around 2.30 with a coffee. I swear – instant death if she is late. Struggling to go on. Shit and I just remember some weird dreams from the few hours sleep I had.
Well well well what have we here? This guy is a photographer I met who is still struggling with the Nokia E60 phone that takes 3 minutes to send a text. We spent quite a while discussing 3, texting, cameras etc. He is going to get an E71 because it has a camera. I told him the camera was bullshit cause it was only 3 megapixels but he didn’t seem to mind. He was more thrilled he could take a picture and upload it immediately. Tyrone took the pics for the lastest Doctor Marten’s campaign which I saw every morning on the way to work cause they were on the phone box I walked past, until the “DO YOU KNOW WHAT A DONKEY PUNCH IS?” posters replaced them. He has no body piercings or tattoos, clean even teeth, is 6′3″ at least and a lovely smile, is employed. I don’t know his current relationship status, but this isn’t always important. God, I hope if he ever sees that he realises I’m only being semi serious.
Here is my desk in my office. There is just my desk in my office. And my office is a little room in a bigger room with two offices in it. I walk into my office, sit at my desk, look out the window at the big church, drink my latte [or make a tea if I was running late and didn't have time to stop], wait for my computer to start up, day dream for about two minutes, then work. I love job. I love joke. I love Sex Attack. That is a song. By Appareil.
I learnt a new card game today called Shithead with Jappers and Mr Chips in Finbury Park. SO MUCH FUN. I love card games and it reminded me of when I played Canasta for hours with my sister. We had the most beautiful card set with some Carmen Miranda lady on the back. The other card game we played was called Mhing. Or something.
Here is me the only time I was Shithead. Mr Chips ended up as Mega Shithead after crowing all arvo about what a champ he is and how he was going to bomb us all with his cards. And a fucking cheater!!
Here is Mr Chips totally desolate after his shameful loss searching through rubbish looking for some meaning to life. A spiritual cripple.
Some others with no dignity were these Italians who looked peaceful at this moment, but actually when Jappers and Mr Chips went to get some Doritos, they had a screaming row which disturbed my peaceful repose while I stared at the sky and dreamt of all kinds of beautiful things that you think about in summer weather. Unless you are stuck in an office with broken aircon.
Chillax to the maxxx
A long time ago I knew a man who was living in a hospital with patients living with different mental conditions. Robert was a real pain in the arse. He used to collect porn mags and display them by leaning them along his window ledge to offend the female nurses. He also stole cutlery so that he might eat in his room. It was not permitted to have such items in the rooms. All rooms were free of coat hangers, the mirrors were made from metal sheets [not very reflective] there were no shower curtains and no shower rails to tie sheets from.
I was wearing and Oeuf t-shirt [remember that label that Andrew Hartwell did?] that said HOMME MINUS on it when Robert saw me. Robert eyed me up and down and said from under his grey moustache “Oh you are one of those women are you?” I was so emo at the time I felt like crying in his face, but didn’t. I’m not a real man hater. But sometimes I feel like it.
It is properly raining now. I love it after a warm day. The air smells like magic spells.
I just went searching for my old French teach at College – Mr Redeker but couldn’t stalk him. He was one of my teachers who was very encouraging. He told me that I would be able to do anything I wanted, whatever that might me. I just haven’t decided what I want to do yet. Someone else said the same thing today. I’m glad I haven’t “lost it” after all these years.
Well after being smooched to death a little while ago [but kept my lacey knickers on]and getting quite hot under the hood of my casual Ralph Lauren striped hoodie, I was only left to wonder, as I was leaning over my table trying to write a map back to the tube station whilst being manhandled, if the gent in question was an A, B, C, D or E.
Sorry for any delays… this wont publish for some reason…
It was the Linen Anniversary for Nameless and I the other day. It felt like Friday the 13th had come a week early.
I walked all the way to the chemist to learn I left my wallet at home, had to go back to get it. Yawn. Stepped out the door again and twisted my ankle a bit on the step down and fumbled my footing. All the hot estate boys down the road with their tops off and grey sweat pants on cracked up laughing. Then I noticed one of them was the jerky French guy who thinks there are spirits in the house at the end of the road and just hangs around pestering the tenants.
When I was young, my Dad used to have this orange t-shirt that said ‘Have A Nice Day’ in big letters, with ‘Until some bastard comes along and fucks it up for you’ in little letters underneath. There are people who really try. I have some happy memories and they aren’t ever gonna disappear. No matter what anyone tries to demand from me.
My Dad has been sending me really funny and cute texts lately so I haven’t had much to update with the John Davidson Fan Club via email. He always texts on the weekend to ask if the Cardinal and I are on the piss and to tell us to have fun and to have one for him. He likes to know if we are chasing boys and if either of us get lucky. I’m looking forward to the weekend already cause I know that the dramas of this week will be over and that The G.A. will be sending me texts from his wheelchair at home.
Okay so I know that from looking at the clock, it is shortly after 1pm. If I look out the window though, it could be 8am, 10am, 1pm, 3pm, 5pm, 9pm. [Well not 5pm or 9pm in Winter I haven't got the heating on so I know it isn't Winter.]
Doesn’t anyone else not feel completely cheated by the weather today?!
Maybe my life would be more fun if I had one of those kind of fashion blogs [just reading Susie Stylebubble et al infinitum] where I dress up and take pictures of myself. These girls always look so happy sincere, precious, intense BUT CONTENT. And much younger than me. Are there any guys who write these kinds of blogs?
I’m going down to Brindisa for for some tortilla and a coffee. Who wants to bunk off work and come too?
Well this is what gets up Reh Doggs nose. I haven’t bothered to check up on him lately but I have to say I really love this video.
Now, I will tell you what gets up my nose:
1] the improper use of the term ‘manic depression’ and all it’s derivatives/applications. [Alex T - what is the proper way of saying what I want there?]
So to make this clear to everyone, technically speaking, you don’t mean what you think you do when you go on about being ‘manically depressed’. Manic depression [apart from being a frustrated miss, just ask Jimi Hendrix] is a psychiatric condition marked by alternate periods of elation and depression. The ‘manic’ part actually refers to the intense elation.
2] Getting hung up on. It drives me INSANE. To the point of storming over to someone’s house and pounding on their door to finish what I was saying at one in the morning.
My cold is progressing rapidly and today I woke up feeling even worse. Please anyone will you come over today and bring some food? Even if I don’t like you I will enjoy your company and appreciate your good will.
Yeah – I really really hate change, particularly sudden change. It really freaks me out. But, I have made a few changes to my blog you may notice.
<---- Down the left hand column <---- Scroll down <---- You will see a load of new menu items <---- Including my album "I Love My Computer" <---- To download FREE <---- Links to my art projects <---- And videos
I have more stuff to add but that is going to come eventually.
Someone told me yesterday that they had sex with XXCENSOREDXX who has a really hairy fanny. I am really surprised by that news! I can’t explain how my mind works at the best of times but a detail like someones minge I will think about for a long time. I was watching Sense and Sensibility or Pride and Prejudice or something on TV eating a FISH PIE with an added can of Tuna and chopped chicory all mushed in thinking about the news I had heard. Probably, I should have let it go.
Thanks for giving me this… I will never sleep now.
This is OUR SONG? Well I challenge you to sing this at karaoke! Cursing me with this song was pretty heavy! LOL.
Anyway majority audience, this is one for you.
Just checking up on my buddy Babyjoker21 to see how his Christmas went. GREAT CHOICE OF TRACK. There is nothing sweeter than R Kelly with the water drop snare. I don’t think I would want to unwrap my presents after this happened in front of them. Finally I think I have been pushed to my limit with the hip rolling. Particularly when he takes his top off and you get to see that he is wearing little budgie smuggler panties with those white tracky daks and socks. The outfit is wrong. Now that XXCENSOREDXX has come clean about thinking I’m a bitch etc, there is no way I will ever get to be able to restyle Ruff Sqwad! Maybe I’m gonna have to contact these guys. [Hang on – was XXCENSOREDXX hating on me when he used my post about the Ruff Sqwad fashion commentary on his blog? Weird.