Be still my heart,
The new single is Brill. I would love to do unspeakable things to the singer, I don't know his name, but I saw him at Reading leisure centre, and almost came in my knickers. It was a white vest and arms thing. It was immense.
I see some pretty random things at work, and in this town, like child parents beating their children. It's horrible, or my strictly orthodox muslim shopkeeper re-arranging the porn mags on the top shelf this evening. Mazzy star 'Into dust' has been my walking home soundtrack for the past week. I get all determined walking up the bloody hill, and then curse marlborough when i feel rubbish getting through the door.
I configured the subwoofer on my PC to 'Thunder' and have successfully pissed off all my housemates. HA! serves them right for using all my nice bog roll and using up the hot water.
I need a fucking haircut. I need a fucking good seeing to. I need to fucking leave Luton. I need to pick my bass up, and I need to stop checking old school friends profiles on friendsreunited.com to see who has had babies and who hasn't and who is a crack whore and who isn't.
I think i have the whole twitch on about the married/babies thing because by my age my mum was just about to get married/buy a house etc etc with my dad. They'd been together since they were sixteen. they're still together now. I had self set targets, I know, it's dumb, but it's something I do. I had my marriage target age, and by 27, I should be producing children, so I can be interesting uber mother. HOWEVER, this is not helped by my utter contempt for children. Still. I still want one, whether I'll like it or not. Besides, can't you like give these things away?
For the first time ever, I worry about how old I am, and how quickly, and all the things I maybe should have done, apart from wasting around in record shops.
I repierced my navel last night. Entertainment and blood squirting all round. Genius. One of the only plus points of being on my own is that I tend to have REAL stupid ideas, and then have nobody to talk me out of them.
Yay me. yay me and YAY BIG HUGE YAY that Jup is coming to see me tomorrow night for sausages and mash, and wii tennis, and yeah, it's all good. I fucking miss him
i've had too much wine for how early I need to get up
Gah
The new single is Brill. I would love to do unspeakable things to the singer, I don't know his name, but I saw him at Reading leisure centre, and almost came in my knickers. It was a white vest and arms thing. It was immense.
I see some pretty random things at work, and in this town, like child parents beating their children. It's horrible, or my strictly orthodox muslim shopkeeper re-arranging the porn mags on the top shelf this evening. Mazzy star 'Into dust' has been my walking home soundtrack for the past week. I get all determined walking up the bloody hill, and then curse marlborough when i feel rubbish getting through the door.
I configured the subwoofer on my PC to 'Thunder' and have successfully pissed off all my housemates. HA! serves them right for using all my nice bog roll and using up the hot water.
I need a fucking haircut. I need a fucking good seeing to. I need to fucking leave Luton. I need to pick my bass up, and I need to stop checking old school friends profiles on friendsreunited.com to see who has had babies and who hasn't and who is a crack whore and who isn't.
I think i have the whole twitch on about the married/babies thing because by my age my mum was just about to get married/buy a house etc etc with my dad. They'd been together since they were sixteen. they're still together now. I had self set targets, I know, it's dumb, but it's something I do. I had my marriage target age, and by 27, I should be producing children, so I can be interesting uber mother. HOWEVER, this is not helped by my utter contempt for children. Still. I still want one, whether I'll like it or not. Besides, can't you like give these things away?
For the first time ever, I worry about how old I am, and how quickly, and all the things I maybe should have done, apart from wasting around in record shops.
I repierced my navel last night. Entertainment and blood squirting all round. Genius. One of the only plus points of being on my own is that I tend to have REAL stupid ideas, and then have nobody to talk me out of them.
Yay me. yay me and YAY BIG HUGE YAY that Jup is coming to see me tomorrow night for sausages and mash, and wii tennis, and yeah, it's all good. I fucking miss him
i've had too much wine for how early I need to get up
Gah
nicklesanddimes3:
this was a great read, thanks for entertaining me, I really enjoyed it. 