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I would try to make a useful contribution to this near-discussion but I'm supposed to be having a quiet night in, so I'm trying to type silently, without looking at the screen, whilst holding a conversation about something quiet night inish.
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Are you having a quiet night in on your own, doing that? That is wierd. Or are you pretending not to be on the internet whilst having an alleged quiet night in with your partner. I know that one.
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TMO averages around 5 posts a night, and I’ve signed up for a rom-com to contribute to that. Do you think you could turn TMO around if you were paid to post again, London?
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My mate has popped round and is playing the Goldfrapp T-mobile song which is annoying me. I think I may need to go out and get drunk.
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Oh, I don't mind The Producers. I'm even looking forward to it. Tea at the Ritz (this is not a West End musical about singing scones), though? I...Christ!
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Surley tea @ ritz involves lots of nice cakes and sanwiches though? That is worth a bit. When I have to go to conferences I just think of all the free food I will get as motivation.
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I watched 8 Women by Peter Greenaway and fell asleep draped into a zig-zag shape upon the green sofa. The film was beautiful. There were no men in it whatsoever! Just women, singing songs sometimes, trying to find out who had killed their father. Such incredible women with crazy pouting mouths and tightly stretched young skin. Maid's outfits; pink skirts; a top with a sweetheart neckline; a block-black fringe; a hat with a stalk on top like a cherry on a cake. Wowsa. I still fell asleep though.
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TONIGHT: indoors. avoiding drunk people, for i am no longer of their legion and must spurn them at all turns. watching american beauty and dylan moran: monster, eating pringel and The Marks And Sparks Sex Pudding and drinking some form of pop with soda, feasibly one with a Totally Tropical Taste. not receiving any nye textses because i was mugged of my handbag last night and my mobe and £30 of my xmas cash is now funding some fucking crackhead to have a WHALE OF A FUCKING TIME on his favourite bloodstained remnant of carpet in a steel- doored derelict victorian pile in st pauls somewhere. mourning the extra £75 on top of that £30 that i had to pay a (relatively non- blood- sucking)locksmith. deciding it is better to focus on the goodness of the people who went hareing down ashley road after said Fucking Crackhead rather than the badness of him. and that also, if i forgive him and say requisite fluffy liberal things about how it is not his fault he is the victim of the evil of CRACK COCAINE, i can feel really pious and warm- glowish and maybe archbishop rowan kindbeard will mention me is his Speech of Godly Nice to the World tomorrow morning. smoke fags in dark, listen to dustbins being turned over and non- specific screaming down road, re- decide to forgive crackhead on monday morning. until then, entertain visions of paying small children to trip him over and kick him, cover him in mud and twigs and loogies, in front of all his mates, and his mum, and his sisters. and his dog.
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Last night I got drunk and demanded that my friend Dan (of last christmas meat fame) meet me outside the curry house, called Rafus that he can see from his living room window. However, I spelt it wrong (Rafts) and he went on a massive trek around the town centre while I paced to and from his front door and back to the restaraunt a dozen times. I then couldn't text him and his phone doesn't accept incoming calls so I simply went on home to my parents house and fell asleep. Turns out that he thought I was deliberately winding him up because rafts is an anagram of farts and so he was furious with me.
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I wish I could have an early night, but they've been letting off bangers and other assorted fireworks as is Dutch tradition since this morning..
I'm knackered, after yesterdays snowing in and motorway blizzards to todays thaw and firework banging and a no sleeping EVER Beckett I'm none too fussed on seeing in 2006.
Still, a new year and new chances, I feel better about 2006 than I did about 2005.
in a couple of hours, a pub called the old blue last. full of vice mag tossers, but it's where my friends have chosen so what to do?
after, the dragon bar. my fave place. was there last night in fact.
drop by carwash for a bit of retro fun. mate is djing, so it's free.
finally, to the same party amp is going to. unlikely to be standing by then. actually i may well have a quiet one and slip away by 1 am. nye generally fucking sucks.
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I'm not sure if I'm going. I don't know if I feel like greeting any more years with a cheery smile on my face. I'd rather cower, like a dog wondering how hard it's going to be hit this time.
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come join me in old blue (which will full of my mates so less wanker than usual. i hope, or we can go get some vietnamese food or something.
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quote:Originally posted by Darryn.R: a no sleeping EVER Beckett
You haven't been feeding him those sweets that turn him into a raging loony again have you?
Being disorganised and crap, I've arranged precisely nothing for tonight, and since I'm fairly apathetic about NYE anyway, I reckon I'll be boring and stay home accompanied by beer, bombay mix and Match Of The Day. Happy new year all, lets hope 2006 has less shit parts than 2005 did!
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quote:Originally posted by Darryn.R: Spent an hour or so earlier running about naked and screaming, then laughing at the screaming, then screaming some more.
Sounds like a fairly average New Year party
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Louche
Carved TMO on her clit just to make you feel bad
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Christ. London has made me totally redundant.
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Don't worry Louche. I will be back to normal soon: happy, pie-eyed, consciously naive. I just need something good to happen to point me in the right direction again.
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