Saturday, 30th August 2003
Reasons why I am wrong.
Today I was supposed to help a friend move. I was supposed to turn up at the old house at noon and take the belongings to storage with her. Instead, I actually woke up about 45 minutes ago with a gigantuous hangover and did absolutely no moving. I am an evil whore…
I am currently deciding on whether or not this is a good answerphone message. (And I shall get his voicemail, I SHALL!):
Hi, this is Tank, the person you were snogging last night in and outside of the bar you work in that just so happens to be my favourite bar of the moment. Yeah! Now I don’t know whether or not I am going to go back there since the other lovely bartender knew exactly what was going on. Anyway, what the fuck is your name again..? Sorry, it’s kind of embarrassing to ask since we have exchanged tonsils and copious amount of flemmy, mucus laden saliva, but I haven’t got a fucking clue.
(Fuck, well that completely ruined EVERYTHING. He just called. His name is Dave although I may, or may not, refer to him as Final Fling Mannie. He said he is willing to be my scapegoat which means that I just might end up loving him. Anyway, I’m going to continue with my now redundant, imaginary answerphone message.)
So, umm, do you know that you broke someone’s heart last night? Do you remember the Scottish guy I was talking to and never ended up meeting at the other bar because you kept giving me more beer and entertaining me? Yeah, he called me 5 times last night, finally resorting to calling me an English cunt because I stood him up. He didn’t mean that in a good way either. How could you do that to him?
And no, just in case you were wondering, no I didn’t help my friend move. I am an evil whore and it’s all your fault. And so, what are you going to tell Unbreed Mannie, huh? He might be upset that you got a snog out of his date and he didn’t. I am SO not taking the flak for that.
Anyway, it was so nice snogging you last night. I hope I didn’t hurt you at all when I threw you up against the wall in a BAVA induced hormonal rage of ecstasy. It’s just I haven’t snogged / copulated / anythinged with a mannie since TB Gami did that disappearing act I so I have pent up sexual aggression. Can I throw you against a solid object again sometime…? Call me!
Friday, 29th August 2003
10 Cunt-like Stars
Yesterday my pedantic rant expressed my annoyance over American’s, today my 10 Cunt-like Stars shall praise the following Americans.
Chezpink rules ok buster?! I got a half day today because of the impending holiday and I came home to a rather wonderful package from Mizz Pink. No she did not send me the remnants of a disemboweled eunuch as one might expect, but instead a wonderful package containing cookies, a bracelet, a GA Grit Cunt polaroid and a non-panty wearing grannie napkin! 23 million cunt-like stars to the Pinkette and 23 extra million Happy birthdays for her soon to be special day. Thanks Woman, you ROCK!
A young fellow called Adam recommended that I buy a book called House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski and that I did. It arrived yesterday and although I haven’t read any more than a few pages of the introduction, it looks highly intriguing. The layout of the book alone is amazing; hopefully the content will prove to live up to the originality displayed in it’s design. (e.b. you HAVE to buy this book!) I found this interview with Danielewski and pee peed myself laughing. Okay, so Mark and Adam don’t necessarily get Cunt-like stars right now, just opaque ones, stars on loan, and I do reserve the right to take them back…