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27th March 2004

1:06am: For the attention of iain: Simon Munnery will be performing at the Stamford Arts Centre on the 23rd of July.


25th December 2003

12:29am: Oh, guys, I'm drunk. Despite that I mean it when I say I love you all and wish you the very best of Christmasses. ♥


24th November 2003

2:07pm: The ham is delicious, but I don't think I like the sinister look on Paul's face.


19th August 2003

1:02am: I didn't wake up in time to let the menagerie out. I got woken up, in fact, about five minutes before the taxi arrived which meant that I didn't have time for anything I had planned or to collect all of my stuff. I was annoyed at the time but meh, I suppose it just means I'll have to stop over tomorrow night so that I can pick up whatever I left behind...
My room's as messy as it was when I last slept in it, which was quite a while ago. I really need to sift through the piles and find all the clothes I want washing for Reading. Speaking of Reading, the wonderful splendiferous whambo did my hair for me today, and I'm now fully ready for a showerless five days. Check it out:Collapse )
I'm quite aware that I look a bit rough at the minute (it's been a long day), so I refuse to even try for a decent full-face shot. Look at the hair, the hair! It has purple glittery bits in, and turquoise bits in, and pink bits in - and I like it.
This morning I picked up a beautiful hardback copy of Poe's The Fall of the House of Usher and other stories, which I'm enjoying immensely. Stamford's charity shops have been providing me with books to read on my buses home ever since I finished Choke, which was sometime recently. I've lost track of all the days.
I've got to be at work in eight and a half hours and right after that I'm going to see Hundred Reasons at the Leicester Charlotte, so... bed!
Current Mood: grateful


10th August 2003

1:22am: He tries to embrace her, she wants him to race her (he needs a laser to get it through her skull) - means and lies and hatreds, tears that fall in sequence, cold caressing inkprint; conversation growing dull. Says he's a poet (lousy protazoan), and he kisses ass for free. I took a vow of silence when he tried to talk to me, I just turn on the TV. He tries to impress her, mentally undress her, it takes more to possess her, but in his pocket lies a hole. He's got a thousand talents, charisma by the bagful, aristocratic parents - a rebel with a heart of gold. Says he's a poet (this time he's gonna blow it), 'cause he's dancing with his ego. I took a vow of silence when he reads his work to me, I swallow words like a placebo. You're strutting with your flesh mechanic, it gets him in a panic - he's wasting time, 'cause everybody is a star in his eye.

"Be careful not to give your favours to your lonesome fucked-up neighbours - I had one who sent me her heart in a tupperware container. All the movies in my head, they flicker with my bleeding heart. A careless slipping of the tongue on just another private part. Blatant search for stoned affection, fights the rust that breeds infection. Meet me at the intersection, don't forget your fuel injection."

You think this love is bona fide - you're being taken for a ride. Wrap your lip around your head, and slowly blow yourself away.

9th August 2003

2:34pm: I go outside and I look at the bright blue sky and I can't stop thinking how damn happy I am. I know that I'm just a silly little girl underneath everything and that a million other people have felt this way before me, and that a million more will feel this way again - but everything's so wonderful and right here, right now, I'm fucking special. Okay?
Current Mood: content


9th July 2003

1:14pm: C'est ne pas un update.


14th February 2003

4:38pm: A dozen red roses makes a bunch that's about half the size of me and smells like heaven. That's the first thing that hit me - the scent, as I walked through the door. And then I cried, because I was overwhelmed. And then I composed myself, and then I called Sam and cried down the phone at her because I'm so damn happy. This pisses on my other sixteen Valentine's Days, with a most hearty vengeance and from a very great height. Thank you, Joe. Love to all of you.
Now, if you'll excuse me I have a great deal to do and only an hour and a half to do it in...
Current Mood: beautiful


9th December 2002

10:28pm: Daytime TV
My brain cells have been humming the Trading Up theme tune as they die.

9th April 2002

1:44am: The Collins Report (written with my creative entertainment business partner): The first stage in our plan consists of finding a market for our, ahem, product. Simple enough. There is no shortage of desperate boys in our year; however, there is somewhat of a shortage of desperate boys with a strong financial position. Some of the people we are acquainted with quite probably have a stash of porn large enough to raise their bed several feet off the floor (not mentioning names, although Ben Noll deserves a special and pointed non-mention), but have a notable lack of capital. Yet one person springs immediately to mind - desperate enough to sleep with his best mate�s girlfriend, and totally loaded (lives off daddy). This boy is commonly known as Peanut. I leave you to draw your own conclusions as to why this could be. Therefore, we have both a target market (Peanut), a product (Michelle), and enough enterprise to bring the two together. Obviously, we don�t intend on physically bringing the two together. There is a name for that sort of person, and that name is �pimp�. What we plan to do is still on the legal side of the thin blue line (at this stage in our plan, anyway). Stage two involves promoting our product. All we need to do is drop a few subtle hints to Peanut (affectionately known as Teeny Pean). When I say �subtle�, it may be a good idea to bear in mind the mentality of our client and consider 6-foot tall flashing neon signs, placed directly outside his bedroom window and bearing the legend �Michelle will dance 4U�. Once we have engaged Peanut�s interest, all that remains of this phase of our masterplan is to negotiate just how much he is prepared to pay for a night of fun with the lovely Michelle. Stage three is the first actual involvement of Michelle. We, being the generous and fair employers that we are, will offer her a straight 50% of whatever we can persuade Peanut to give us. Naturally we will have to remove certain expenses from her share of the revenue, after all, leather thong bikinis don�t come cheap any more. Unless she already has something suitable in her well-stocked wardrobe. NB: Check up on this. Not to mention the fact that she gets so many more added benefits than us� pension scheme, health benefits� Then Peanut gets whatever it is he�s paying for. Use your imagination; too much detail just isn�t necessary here. Stage four comes once the life cycle of the business has reached decline. Once it�s all over and we are preparing to go our separate ways (Michelle with her �50%�, and us with �25%� each) we reveal the existence of certain videos of her escapades. Then we threaten that unless we quite suddenly gain possession of all of her profits, then her parents will quite suddenly gain possession of the videos. We make her a sign a contract decreeing that we won�t show the videos to her parents, although we will neglect to mention that in the small print there is a clause giving us the rights to do whatever we want with the videos, except showing them to any of her family members. This leaves us able to execute stage five - selling the videos on and adding to our already substantial profit.
Current Mood: businesslike

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