Blah Quick Update Blah.

FINALLY caught up with Louise today! *dances* We went to the cinema, where we saw Troy. I, as we all know, have already seen it, but she hadn't and we'd missed the only showing of The Notebook. Was actually better the second time. I think Louise was a bit *woah* at The Brad. I just started giggling at random points thinking of things said right here in LJ and during the first PP chat after I saw Troy.

My room is almost finished being sorted. I've cracked and put pictures up. My mum has this new 'no blu-tak' rule cos of the shiny new paint so I had to get creative as to where to put them. No drawer front or desk side, wardrobe door or bedroom door has been left uncovered in my quest to slather my room with pictures. Pictures of Dead Leg-Ends, of course.

'Sport Relief', an offshoot of WILDLY successful bi-annual charity event Comic Relief was on tonight. Aside from the biggest mile run in history, which included Tony Blair, Prince William and punk-bondage wearing Jonathan Ross, it also included an amusing David Beckham interview. With 'Ron Manager', a football pundit character from the sadly departed Fast Show. I was personally more excited about the idea of seeing Ron Manager again than Diamonds Dave, although he was goodnatured about the piss taking. And you've not lived if you haven't seen David Beckham inhale helium and do an impression of David Beckham.

Or, you know, you have. Meh. Can't wait for Comic Relief- too much like hard work watching people run and that. Will give some money tomorrow, methinks. Anything that gets someone royal off their arse that doesn't involve shooting something has my support.

Blah Quick Update Blah.

FINALLY caught up with Louise today! *dances* We went to the cinema, where we saw Troy. I, as we all know, have already seen it, but she hadn't and we'd missed the only showing of The Notebook. Was actually better the second time. I think Louise was a bit *woah* at The Brad. I just started giggling at random points thinking of things said right here in LJ and during the first PP chat after I saw Troy.

My room is almost finished being sorted. I've cracked and put pictures up. My mum has this new 'no blu-tak' rule cos of the shiny new paint so I had to get creative as to where to put them. No drawer front or desk side, wardrobe door or bedroom door has been left uncovered in my quest to slather my room with pictures. Pictures of Dead Leg-Ends, of course.

'Sport Relief', an offshoot of WILDLY successful bi-annual charity event Comic Relief was on tonight. Aside from the biggest mile run in history, which included Tony Blair, Prince William and punk-bondage wearing Jonathan Ross, it also included an amusing David Beckham interview. With 'Ron Manager', a football pundit character from the sadly departed Fast Show. I was personally more excited about the idea of seeing Ron Manager again than Diamonds Dave, although he was goodnatured about the piss taking. And you've not lived if you haven't seen David Beckham inhale helium and do an impression of David Beckham.

Or, you know, you have. Meh. Can't wait for Comic Relief- too much like hard work watching people run and that. Will give some money tomorrow, methinks. Anything that gets someone royal off their arse that doesn't involve shooting something has my support.

Definition of Conflict of Interest:

When Ronnie 'Comedy God' Barker takes the piss out of Dean Martin.

*brain implodes*

Definition of Conflict of Interest:

When Ronnie 'Comedy God' Barker takes the piss out of Dean Martin.

*brain implodes*

More wacko dreams.

OK. I'm getting really pissed off with my subconscious. Last night I dreamed that I was at maybe a festival or something. Thin Lizzy were playing and they were really good. Except that it couldn't really be Philip, because he's dead and this gig was in the present day. The Philip replacement was so perfectly Philip that I didn't realise until it occurred to me of course, that Phil is dead. And this 'Philip' really was good- Ian Astbury with the Doors but good at it. And he came over to me and started flirting.

To borrow a phrase from the beautiful Tracy Lord Haven: "I'm going crazy. I'm standing here solidly on my own two hands and going crazy."

More wacko dreams.

OK. I'm getting really pissed off with my subconscious. Last night I dreamed that I was at maybe a festival or something. Thin Lizzy were playing and they were really good. Except that it couldn't really be Philip, because he's dead and this gig was in the present day. The Philip replacement was so perfectly Philip that I didn't realise until it occurred to me of course, that Phil is dead. And this 'Philip' really was good- Ian Astbury with the Doors but good at it. And he came over to me and started flirting.

To borrow a phrase from the beautiful Tracy Lord Haven: "I'm going crazy. I'm standing here solidly on my own two hands and going crazy."

For GOD'S SAKE!

OK, so when I was in the sixth form, when we had to get meningitis vaccinations at school I went in only for that purpose. I went then to the shops, where I went into Our Price and purchased Come By Me by Harry Connick, Jr. It was the start for me, of a deep and abiding love of this dude's music. It was this album that sent me to the Royal Albert Hall some months later to see him live.

At some point in my life since then, this particular album was lost to me. I have been looking for it for months. Literally fucking months. Today I went to my brother's room to ask if he'd help me solve the situation with the internet in my room (it's stopped working. Money well spent). While waiting to see if he was even fucking listening to me, I happened to gaze upon his CD racks. Kid A by Radiohead, a bunch of hip-hop and nu-metal bollocks. And Come By Me by Harry Connick Jr.

He swears I lent it to him. I swear otherwise. Even so, we've just had our house re-done. He's just had to sort those cd racks out, right? He fucking steals my CD and then doesn't even think to return it when he sorts his CDs out? He doesn't think "hmm, perhaps I should return this to Clare?" Course he fucking doesn't, the selfish little fuckwit bastard.

And instead of helping me try to resolve my internet issues, the bastard's gone to the pub.

This is also the fucker who, when I put on Led Zeppelin II on vinyl on the stereo downstairs while making lunch immediately went and plugged his iPod into it, overriding my music. He didn't even stop the record and just shouted at me when I politely requested he STOP HIS FUCKING MUSIC.

And he's started listening to The Smiths. I quite like them and I have respect for Moz. BUT I DON'T WANT TO HEAR THEM SO LOUD I DON'T NEED TO EVEN OPEN MY BEDROOM DOOR!

He is a sociopathic, selfish, lazy, mean, nasty little bastard and next time something like this happens, I'll swing for him.

I'm SO going to get a screencap off my Porridge DVD and make a NAFF OFF! icon.

For GOD'S SAKE!

OK, so when I was in the sixth form, when we had to get meningitis vaccinations at school I went in only for that purpose. I went then to the shops, where I went into Our Price and purchased Come By Me by Harry Connick, Jr. It was the start for me, of a deep and abiding love of this dude's music. It was this album that sent me to the Royal Albert Hall some months later to see him live.

At some point in my life since then, this particular album was lost to me. I have been looking for it for months. Literally fucking months. Today I went to my brother's room to ask if he'd help me solve the situation with the internet in my room (it's stopped working. Money well spent). While waiting to see if he was even fucking listening to me, I happened to gaze upon his CD racks. Kid A by Radiohead, a bunch of hip-hop and nu-metal bollocks. And Come By Me by Harry Connick Jr.

He swears I lent it to him. I swear otherwise. Even so, we've just had our house re-done. He's just had to sort those cd racks out, right? He fucking steals my CD and then doesn't even think to return it when he sorts his CDs out? He doesn't think "hmm, perhaps I should return this to Clare?" Course he fucking doesn't, the selfish little fuckwit bastard.

And instead of helping me try to resolve my internet issues, the bastard's gone to the pub.

This is also the fucker who, when I put on Led Zeppelin II on vinyl on the stereo downstairs while making lunch immediately went and plugged his iPod into it, overriding my music. He didn't even stop the record and just shouted at me when I politely requested he STOP HIS FUCKING MUSIC.

And he's started listening to The Smiths. I quite like them and I have respect for Moz. BUT I DON'T WANT TO HEAR THEM SO LOUD I DON'T NEED TO EVEN OPEN MY BEDROOM DOOR!

He is a sociopathic, selfish, lazy, mean, nasty little bastard and next time something like this happens, I'll swing for him.

I'm SO going to get a screencap off my Porridge DVD and make a NAFF OFF! icon.