Random moments from something loosely called a life

I did not attend my first two and a half classes today. My throat's really been bugging me and I couldn't sleep and it all just went a bit pear-shaped.

Not that the classes I attended were anything to write home about. Or even write here about.

I also totally forgot that a dress I really fucking wanted ended it's auction on ebay tonight. totally forgot until just now, an hour after it ended. I really wanted it to. It was beautiful, red and like something Ava Gardner would've worn. Fuck. Bollocks. Ah, I'll get over it.

I spoke to Natasha for the first time in much too long last night. I'd like to take this opportunity to tell you all that I love my bestest pal very much indeed.

Roger Daltrey's voice, man. His voice. OK, so he's not Jim or Robert, but he's a fabulous singer. Mind you, right now my throat is so fucked I might manage a passable impression of the gravel-voiced one.

Last thing: listening to a snatch of 'Shang-A-Lang' by the Bay City Rollers last night on Never Mind the Buzzcocks, it struck me that despite it's pointless 70s tartan teen pop bollocks, there was a real sad streak in it. To those who might possibly have even heard of the Rollers, what do you think? Am I mad?

Random moments from something loosely called a life

I did not attend my first two and a half classes today. My throat's really been bugging me and I couldn't sleep and it all just went a bit pear-shaped.

Not that the classes I attended were anything to write home about. Or even write here about.

I also totally forgot that a dress I really fucking wanted ended it's auction on ebay tonight. totally forgot until just now, an hour after it ended. I really wanted it to. It was beautiful, red and like something Ava Gardner would've worn. Fuck. Bollocks. Ah, I'll get over it.

I spoke to Natasha for the first time in much too long last night. I'd like to take this opportunity to tell you all that I love my bestest pal very much indeed.

Roger Daltrey's voice, man. His voice. OK, so he's not Jim or Robert, but he's a fabulous singer. Mind you, right now my throat is so fucked I might manage a passable impression of the gravel-voiced one.

Last thing: listening to a snatch of 'Shang-A-Lang' by the Bay City Rollers last night on Never Mind the Buzzcocks, it struck me that despite it's pointless 70s tartan teen pop bollocks, there was a real sad streak in it. To those who might possibly have even heard of the Rollers, what do you think? Am I mad?