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Froopy and I had to go into town yesterday for a doctor’s appointment. Usually a drab task, but I think it was the best day I’ve had this week. Beautiful out: sunny, not too warm, and we each took the train and met downtown. I actually love going to the hospital – the people rushing everywhere all in one building remind me of a video game, SimTower perhaps, and every time I’m there I have to purposefully put one foot in front of the other to keep from plopping in a corner and just getting lost in their buzz. The exam itself was unpleasant, but it was strangely cool in a marital bonding way to have Scott in the room with me whist they tinkered with my innards. He was, as a boy would be, fascinated with all the strange and wondrous gynecological gadgets, and this amused and distracted me from the doctor’s horrible rending. At the end of it all, we did get a live image of our son or daughter, who seems to already be entranced by his/her thumb and alternately waved at us and happily? sucked away.
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I drove to Manchester today for a registration it turns out I didnt have to go to, but then I met my friend in the queue and I said, "no its alright I'll go to the back of the queue with you." I think I made everybodies day happier! My friend also found fifty pence while we were waiting for the non registration. Then we played pool with broken cues that were bent, but it was ok. I won, but we're pretty evenly matched. I like my friend!
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man i think this is a good day. my friend is temping somewhere and left herself logged into messenger. am now flirting big time with some girl that works there. she sounds hott.
though she just said 'now worris' which may mean she is australian. should i ask her?
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Heh, for some reason I thought it was damo posting those images and was about to wonder out loud why the countryside in the south of America looked so much like middle England.
quote:Originally posted by Bamba: Heh, for some reason I thought it was damo posting those images
Lol, does anyone else remember when kovacs said he got confused between Dang65 and d666. Those two famously similar posting styles and personalities.
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quote:Originally posted by Vogon Poetess: Lol, does anyone else remember when kovacs said he got confused between Dang65 and d666. Those two famously similar posting styles and personalities.
Sometimes I don't think Kovacs actually pays any attention, like we're all so interchangable to him that it doesn't matter who he's talking to.
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On a 'small but cool thing' tip, I've been trying out some new skins for Firefox and found one that I quite liked. It was only later on I noticed that, instead of the crappy animated blue E or whatever that you get when a web-page is loading, I now get an animation of pixel art boxes travelling down a conveyor belt and changing colour half way along which made me smile. Look:
quote:Originally posted by Vogon Poetess: Lol, does anyone else remember when kovacs said he got confused between Dang65 and d666. Those two famously similar posting styles and personalities.
The best thing about that was imagining kovacs's befuddlement when this poster see-sawed between rabid sputterings about drugs, dance and dicking numerous chicks in the heart of Northern clubland, and self-deprecating witticisms on the perils of middle class family life in the Britain's richest area. And not stopping to consider that maybe they were two totally different people.
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-------------------- They give you a pen as fat as a modest cock and you're expected to dab it on the page, as though you were mopping the dregs of an afternoon Tommy. Posts: 1847
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I have now shed my hangover that I aquired from gate-crashing a vet's fresher do last night. The guy on the door practically offered us to crash. 'Are you vets are you?' he asked 'Yeeeeees. We're vets we say'
It's important to note that most people who become vets already have some sort of animalistic feature. In particular was a girl who danced like she had cloven hooves. When she asked 'are you a vet then? Haw haw haw!' I replied 'Actually, no. I'm a doctor in cybernetics. *brief pause whilst looking upwards thoughtfully* I decided to study as a vet when I saw a program about a kitten. *another pause*
'What program was this?'
'Well' says I 'It was about a kitten who couldn't meow. All he could do was open his mouth. But no sound came out. Basically (and I do the little gesticulated hand gestures to make it funnier) they replaced his vocal chords with...do you know that technology that they use in birthday cards?....clever stuff....they use one of those, so that everytime it opens its mouth, a pre-recorded 'meow' comes out. So after that, I wanted to do something useful. Something important' *stare meaningfully*
Her; 'Wow'
Also, the new boy in the office/ward just did the best thing. He sits quite a way away, but got a big tissue and started blowing his nose and walking himself on his chair, slowly towards the bin at my end of the room. I turn to watch and disbelieve for a moment that he will blow his nose all the way to the bin. But he does! PAAAAAAARPGH! scuttle scuttle! FRAAAAAAAART! shuffle! Fantastic! He is still blowing it as he is sat by the bin. So perfect is this that I get to say 'You missed a bit' in deadpan style(e)
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Today isn't a good day here. It blows. I am going to be soooo glad when it hits 5 o'clock and I can get the fuck out of this office and go and do some serious damage to a large bottle of vodka.
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Sorry Saltrock go and look at the "hi there" thread about a Puma.
It made me feel genuinely like those girls on Handbag who claim "I am sitting here wetting my knicks while low-calorie Mint Options is spurting out of my nose as I read this thread!!!! PSML!"
quote:Originally posted by New Way Of Decay: He sits quite a way away, but got a big tissue and started blowing his nose and wanking himself on his chair, slowly towards the bin at my end of the room.
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(lol br, i had forgotten how much les looked like a bald version of sam lake, innit)
my art technicians husband was the jewish man who said 'and a filet o' fish for my wiiiife' in that old macdonalds advert. she didnt even like filet o' fishes. (filets o' fish? i dont know.) we knew this because we asked her repeatedly whether she liked the filet o' fish every art lesson for something like three years. repetition never stops equalling comedy when youre 13.
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My mate has just texted to say that he's feeling a little peaky and has asked if 'possibly I could come to Swindon' instead of hooking up with him. Yeah, thanks mate! Instead of you coming across to London on your day off and showing up for a well planned evening of town painting, I'll travel after work, get there at 8' o clock, see you don't look ill at all, discover someone has actually just made alternative arrangements instead and want to do a mad.
Then, because we had arranged this earlier in the week, I can't go and watch my mate support Good Charlotte tonight.
So now, I have to spend Friday night, on my own. Doing fuckall.
quote: my art technicians husband was the jewish man who said 'and a filet o' fish for my wiiiife' in that old macdonalds advert. she didnt even like filet o' fishes. (filets o' fish? i dont know.) we knew this because we asked her repeatedly whether she liked the filet o' fish every art lesson for something like three years. repetition never stops equalling comedy when youre 13.
My Dad knew the filet o' fish man. What school did you go to?
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1 I've just had a session of reflexology, and far from being the perfectly nice foot massage practised by charlatans that I was expecting, it was in fact magick, with the practitioner able to divine through witch-craft various ailments around my body. I now feel rather chilled, with comfy feet.
2 I'm doing a freelance assignment at a place I rilly like, for good money, and the big editorial cheese has asked me to stay on.
1 I am drinking a mint option, like a handbagger, thinking it might assuage a hangover chocolate craving without gaining an extra arse. However, the only craving it could assuage would be for a saccharine emetic.
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I went and stood on the foredeck of the HMS Belfast for free, thanks to organising a photoshoot with the nice marketing lady there. Wind chill factor was pretty cutting as I wrapped my flimsy spring/summer suit round me and grinned through gritted teeth and made polite conversation with my clients. The view was terrific though and fairly unusual, stuck in the centre of the river like a sore thumb. Yeah, so you can get the same viewpoint from a bridge but it's not the same somehow. This was peaceful, among the guns and heavy chains, no traffic roar and only the floating loudspeaker voice of the passing rivertour and the whip of the wind. The water was dirty brown and the metal floor of the ship was painted a pale blue-grey, spotted along the seams with dirty red rust. The barrier at the edge was three strands of twisted wire, taut under my palms and I could imagine being on deck in storms, clinging and slipping against the steel as I gripped my file and tried to prevent my paperwork spilling into the choppy Thames.
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