quote:Originally posted by scrawny: And isn't that photo of NWOD? (not the ventriloquist one, the one before)
It's easy to get confused though isn't it? The thing I am worried about there, is the fact that the dummy looks really fly whereas I am just looking slightly rotund there. I'm pretty sure I am as emaciated as I am gonna get really, but I want to fight that dummy, in crackly black and white filmation.
I have a better haircut now though, as I booked an appointment at a swanky hairdressers. She took two hours, and then only asked for a fiver. I was thinking 'what the fuckle?' and tipped her twice as much. A day later, it seemed to go back to it's usual scraggy state, but you know, I had cool hair for one day while I had the flu and was stuck in bed.
Louche
Carved TMO on her clit just to make you feel bad
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quote:Originally posted by Boy Racer: Still, not long till Christmas though eh? Not long now Louche.
There. Were. Puddings. In. Tesco. In. The. Middle. Of. September. Christmas fucking cocking cunting cocking raison filled brandy flavoured fucking puddings. It drove me to a brief spurt of towering rage before plunging me into a monotone of defeated uncaring.
Also: vaseline on the edges of your pots prevents evil slime slugs from devouring your tender green plants!
Also: if my teenage self could see me tenderly applying vaseline to the edges of my hosta pots to organically deter monster slugs, she would be wholly, unutterably bemused and would probably have to go and give a bad blowjob in the back seat of an Astra Merit just to recover.
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Louche
Carved TMO on her clit just to make you feel bad
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quote:Originally posted by saltrock: Also: putting crushed egg shell around your plants stops them as it makes them go "OUCH!" and they can't slide over it.
I have done this in the vegetable bed but it wasn't very very very effective. Bastard slugs ated my lettuce shoots when they were all new and inchoate, poking their nebulousness to the sun. I am going to psyche myself up to doing the burying a pint glass with beer in it thing and hardening myself to picking out pickled and thoroughly drowned slugs.
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quote:Originally posted by discodamage: [QUOTE]godawful snorton of a programme would mark a long dark night of the soul for most cogent people, wouldnt it?
sorry but i cant have a word said against our beautiful ally. Take piss if u will, we could do big bro vs ally. Where one deals with real life issues like torretts syndrome and life in a law firm. The other deals with the way people treat each other in a non-existant un-realistic environment, where the views expressed are tainted by the fact that they need to appear like cool people for the benefit of making the general public feel better about their sad little lives!
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Astro: your faded teen memories make me feel GOOD about the ridiculously detailed memories I have stored up. Although I can no longer remember where I bought it and how much it cost for ALL of my CDs.
Tefland: I think Thorn would come across poorly during speed dating; he'd probably ask a really inappropriate question, babble incoherently for the remaining 3 and a half minutes and then knock over a drink for good measure. In another situation, he'd probably be able to come back from that, but the ruthless time limit of speeding would kill his chances. dead.
Dang: re bugs n crawlies. I found a fist sized spider under my pillow the other night. It's a good thing I'm not one of those girly girls who scweams at insects/arachnids. I'd add Daddy Long Legs to your list though; the way they aim DIRECTLY for your hair, clearly planning on scrabbling up your ear hole and penetrating your brain, means that vegetarians can kill them with a translucent conscience.
ETA: what the fuck is that purple-knickered one on about?
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Perhaps the thing that kicked me off on my retro-teen-thought-pattern was my beloved first guitar. Yes - the black Les Paul copy in the pic of VirginMisc™. Aged sixteen, I hacked and chopped pieces off it in order to fit an effects pedal into the body of the guitar. The project worked, but I never had the chance to use
Last night, I started work on the Les Paul's latest incarnation. This time it is free of effects, but fitted with a battery powered fan in place of the neck pickup, which will automatically play the strings. When it's finished, it will be sprayed matt black, and completed with some lovely new matt chrome hardware.
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My god if I could get together with the "Silver Age Me" (I have only really managed the first page of this thread and for Ben's information, "Golden Age" would really have to be an earlier period) it would be a cataclysmic crossover. With the ambition, energy and rangy skills of the younger version -- back when I was getting grade A at art, french, german, maths, even physics -- combined with the BruceWayne-like cultural and intellectual (even moderate financial) capital of the "Modern Age" kovacs, fucking hell I could mentor my young self into a world-smashing bullet.
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Someone really clever could probably put together a short story where, say, four different ages of the same character come together and try to direct each other - so the eldest would look down on the younger ones and try to tell them where they went wrong and the youngest would tell the older ones how dull they were for being grown up and so on.
God, that would be horribly complicated and would have to be written by a genius of some sort. My teenage self could have done it easily.
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scrawny
One Mojito, two Gin and Tonics, Three Bacardi Lime Sodas, and a couple of pints of Stella please.
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That's an interesting idea. Some bastard offspring of me and me.
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scrawny
One Mojito, two Gin and Tonics, Three Bacardi Lime Sodas, and a couple of pints of Stella please.
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Advice from me to me.
Don't pretend you've kissed someone before so you have to kiss evil Richard to back it up don't even think about buying that rugby shirt don't pretend Dr. Martens are a fashion statement don't allow that man to take you outside don't have that fourth pint of Strongbow don't buy that colour eyeshadow and definitely don't wear it whatever you do don't get caught don't listen to Sara Ellershaw don't crash your Mum's car because you were too busy arguing with Ellie to notice don't worry about failing your music exams it's not that important don't forget mothers day again don't tell your sister she was adopted don't let those kids get to you don't be fooled by those Italian men don't forget your first aiding don't make the mistake of thinking you can only fall in love once don't be scared to run away don't touch drugs…well maybe a few drugs but no speed, alright don't think that because people have better jeans than you they're cooler than you don't take any shit from Tony Robinson's son don't let that rascist fucker into your house don't miss your 9 o'clock lecture every week for a year don't be a snob about working in a launderette it's the best job you've ever had don't accept absinthe from an Iraqi don't think you have to carry people all of the time don't tell your lecturer you have narcolepsy when you're just really stoned don't hang out with Rob and Pete they're bad for your head don't miss Mr. Scruff at the Medicine Bar don't go out with Jim - really don't go out with Jim don't regret leaving don't believe any man who claims to have split up with his wife whilst looking the opposite way don't drink that white russian don't let Sam talk you into staying don't fear Greeks bearing gifts don't be bothered by cultural difference don't get addicted to the internet don't let Zettie get to you don't make any more of that no points soup, it's soul-destroying don't beat yourslef up about your grades don't got to the pub, you need to learn about the 18th Century don't be scared of a new country don't obsess about your weight don't make everybody else suffer your own relationship issues don't accept spliffs off Ben don't get wound up by French teenagers don’t be scared to take a chance don't laugh at the sinking duck don't get so emotional don't work weekends if you can help it don't be battered into admin by people scared of change don't forget to accept criticism don't forget to be supportive don't think other people's issues are your fault don't leave the door unlocked and don't whatever you do pigeonhole yourself too early.
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quote: I'd also like to point out that having your hair braided before your graduation ceremony guarantees that you will be recorded, beaming, forever on mother's mantelpiece looking like Predator in a frock.
Louche just made me almost-laugh for the first time in her life.
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my teenage self was roughly 3 months again (Again?! What sort of fucking type is that. ugh, ago.). In three months I have decided...not much. Well, except that now I've passed the teenage mark, I suddenly feel like I'm trying a lot harder in everything to get back to my goldenage of 15, where a budding career in tv journalism after the appearance on newsround still seemed possible. I won at squash yesterday 4-1 for instance, with more effort in one match than I put into playing the whole of last year. I will learn scales on my guitar. I will go to all my lectures.
FIRST WEEK OF TERM OPTIMISM. YES.
ot: Scrawny, I went to mr Scruffs fifth birthday at the music box in manc last june, it was very good. I am going again on saturday! Not to his fifth birthday obviously. just his nite. er. ye.
quote:Originally posted by dang65: How come so many people are 'scared' of clowns? And loads more are scared of spiders for fuck's sake.
Yesterday I was scared of seaweed, a stick and a feather floating in the sea because in my mind they were jellyfish and a weird upside-down floating dying fish like we saw in the sea the other time. I was also scared of stones on the bottom of the sea for being mind-sea-anemones. But then yesterday I was in Spain.
Today I am scared of going back to work, my bank balance, and the fact that I look like I have the mumps due to a staggering fourteen (14) mosquito bites!
I think teenage me would be pleased with my life overall. Possibly annoyed about the debt, impressed by the cute guys I've dated, would think my flat, clothes and cats were great, be chuffed that my big sister is still my best friend but wonder why I never did run off to Spain with SpanishJason when I was 18. Actually, when we were on holiday I was discussing with Amp about that whole scenario and how different my life would have been if I had gone to Spain with him rather than staying in England with EnglishJason, trying to retake my Drama A-Level, taking loads of drugs, moving out of home in a flurry of door slamming... I don't really "do" regret but I do wonder what path my life would have taken if I'd made a different decision at that point.
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I'm telling you this... whoever finally gets round to inventing a time machine is going to do absolutely storming business. They'll be biwyonaires. For about 3 minutes till some halfwit customer stands on a butterfly in 1982 or something and changes the fucking future. God, those fucking halfwit customers get on your tits don't they?
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turbo
Gold..... What is it good for? You can't eat it, you can't smoke it, yet everybody wants it.
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I think teenage me would love to go shopping with present-day me. Having money to spend and a car to take me wherever I want to go would have been incredibly cool to teenage me. Turbo Man would have made teenage me very shy. I would probably be a bit disappointed that I'm not leading a thrilling jet set lifestyle or being all artistic in a hovel in the Latin quarter in Paris, but owning a house in the suburbs instead.
I can't really remember what my ideas about the future were, but I know with absolute certainty that I didn't dream about my current life!
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