Life, after a fashion.

Posting to wish gryffinseye good luck, although I'm sure I'm too late.

In other news, I managed to spill a Pot Noodle over myself. This would be less noteworthy if the full instructions for this product weren't simply: Boil Water. Pour into Pot Noodle up to the line. Wait 2 mins. Stir. Wait 2 mins. Stir. Eat.

So how I managed to spill the bastard is still beyond me, although my beloved Irish rugby shirt now smells of it. Nice.

OK, I was just managing to cope with the fact that Never Mind the Buzzcocks is already over for the autumn, although I'm hoping it's going to be back very soon, or they'll show repeats that I've not taped so that my life regains meaning. BUT today was the last They Think It's All Over until the New Year! Where am I supposed to get new laughs from? What am I to do? Where am I to go? Ah well, hopefully something good will replace it. Room 101 is OK and all, but depends far too much on the special guest and their choices being amusing. Grrr.

Went into town between classes today to buy nail varnish remover (note to self: never piss about painting one's nails if you don't have anything to take it off with!) and the new Robert Plant CD Sixty Six to Timbuktu which is basically a rather smashing compilation of the man's solo work, so there's a few really early pre-Zep glory tracks and then the best of the post-Zep landscape. Therefore some is quite 80s, but I'm trying to get over my 80s phobia. Maybe I could make a film about my trials- Dr. Synthesiser: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Eighties.

I don't think I have anything better to say, so I'll naff off now. Love and hugs to you all.

Life, after a fashion.

Posting to wish gryffinseye good luck, although I'm sure I'm too late.

In other news, I managed to spill a Pot Noodle over myself. This would be less noteworthy if the full instructions for this product weren't simply: Boil Water. Pour into Pot Noodle up to the line. Wait 2 mins. Stir. Wait 2 mins. Stir. Eat.

So how I managed to spill the bastard is still beyond me, although my beloved Irish rugby shirt now smells of it. Nice.

OK, I was just managing to cope with the fact that Never Mind the Buzzcocks is already over for the autumn, although I'm hoping it's going to be back very soon, or they'll show repeats that I've not taped so that my life regains meaning. BUT today was the last They Think It's All Over until the New Year! Where am I supposed to get new laughs from? What am I to do? Where am I to go? Ah well, hopefully something good will replace it. Room 101 is OK and all, but depends far too much on the special guest and their choices being amusing. Grrr.

Went into town between classes today to buy nail varnish remover (note to self: never piss about painting one's nails if you don't have anything to take it off with!) and the new Robert Plant CD Sixty Six to Timbuktu which is basically a rather smashing compilation of the man's solo work, so there's a few really early pre-Zep glory tracks and then the best of the post-Zep landscape. Therefore some is quite 80s, but I'm trying to get over my 80s phobia. Maybe I could make a film about my trials- Dr. Synthesiser: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Eighties.

I don't think I have anything better to say, so I'll naff off now. Love and hugs to you all.

Original ficlet.

Because school is meant to be our home and because school is where we're meant to be safe:

( Click Here )

Original ficlet.

Because school is meant to be our home and because school is where we're meant to be safe:

( Click Here )

Guy Fawkes Night.

I think I said most of what I feel last year, but as I had like, one friend at the time on LJ, perhaps it bears repeating.

Remember, Remember The Fifth of November

Agree with me or disagree as you will. I don't mind celebrating that most of Whitehall wasn't destroyed, but the other side of the coin is basically anti-Catholic rhetoric which I cannot personally accept. Were it just fireworks and the remnants of the earlier bonfire night, perhaps I'd feel better. But that fucking tune, that effigy thrown on the fire... I hate it. I know that not everybody has a guy, not everybody cares, but I do care.

Returning to your regularly scheduled programming tomorrow.

Guy Fawkes Night.

I think I said most of what I feel last year, but as I had like, one friend at the time on LJ, perhaps it bears repeating.

Remember, Remember The Fifth of November

Agree with me or disagree as you will. I don't mind celebrating that most of Whitehall wasn't destroyed, but the other side of the coin is basically anti-Catholic rhetoric which I cannot personally accept. Were it just fireworks and the remnants of the earlier bonfire night, perhaps I'd feel better. But that fucking tune, that effigy thrown on the fire... I hate it. I know that not everybody has a guy, not everybody cares, but I do care.

Returning to your regularly scheduled programming tomorrow.