December 04, 2004

I AM ANGRY

I wrote me a jolly long journal entry just there and then my bastard laptop crashed. FANTASTIC. This kind of occurrence makes me want to gnaw at the wall. I have no husband to listen to me whine about it so here will have to do. Once more he is away, ag obair. Ag déanamh an AIRGEAD MóRA, o sea.

Therefore, I shall paraphrase the contents of the previous journal entry, with gritted teeth, clenched butt cheeks and a WeightWatchers chocolate eclair.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

And now it has happened a second time. I had only saved as far as up there. BLOODY HELL. Deep breaths, neuro, deep breaths.

I shall try again, for the love of my readers. FOR YOU, YOU BITCH.

AS I WAS SAYING: some git informed me yesterday that in order to give my readers bang for their buck, I really should be aiming for a thousand words per entry, and only updating once a week. This is "quality" journalling, unlike the excremental brain vomit you might find here. Well, screw that! Is it really so wrong that I write remarkable unintellectual tripe, sometimes several times a day, and listen to the wrong bananas or simply the fishy song?

Is it so wrong
To long
For the fishy song?

No, it's not wrong, it's right. Right? Affirm me or I may start saying educational things here. Anyway, enough of this idle chatter and on to the important stuff:

I smell like a swimming pool. The ratio of time spent in the pool to out of it would probably be quite high at the moment. It offers relief from my incredible back pain. No amount of scrubbing seems to remove that chlorine smell. Luckily chlorine is a fetish of mine.

Speaking of fetishes, have I ever shared any of my artwork with you guys? I believe that the correct answer is "no", Bob. I have quite a passion for graphic design. Understandably so, I was commissioned today by an acquaintance known as "Ruggiebear" to create a new online signature for him. He says he's interested in computers, rugby and beer, so drawing from that, I've had a few ideas:

This is the first. I really like it; my only issue is that it might lack subtlety. Does it say too much about him? Am I leaving him right out there, naked, for the whole world to see with this one? Possibly.

This next one is more "mysterious":

This says to me - what is Ruggiebear really like? I simply must find out! The colours are striking too, and soulful. Obviously it's a little rough and and might need sharpening here and there, but you get the general idea.

Now, while I was busy with this, I received another request, to create a signature for "Blisterman". I know, a disgusting name. I was very angry that his name was "Blisterman" so I quickly pulled this together for him and sent him a nasty personal message explaining that if he wanted a nice signature he'd need a nice name:

Honestly.

Work over now, and back to my passions.

I may well be falling in love with the curly haired legend Nellie McKay. Seriously. I'd consider leaving K for her if she wanted me. I can't stop listening to her music and forcing all of my friends to listen to it too. Her wit is phenomenal. I am both intimidated by her and in awe of her. Actually that might make for a dodgy marriage. Plus I think she's straight, as am I. This whole Nellie affair just keeps getting more and more complicated.

Perhaps I should just be glad that it was K who introduced me to her. Or does that make it more confusing? Either way, I continue to look forward to K's return tomorrow. He is a very amusing man, if lacking in musical talent. Also, he drives me places, irons my shirts and keeps me warm in the sack. And it's darn cold these nights.

Speaking of curly haired legends, I once had my hair curled up like Nellie's there by a hairdresser who hadn't a blind notion what she was doing. I think she was actually a butcher filling in for her hungover hairdresser friend or summat. Well the great big joke is that she made a dogs dinner of my locks. And it was on my wedding day HA HA HA. Isn't that brilliant. Thankfully, I know how to wash and dry my hair myself (I've done it once or twice) and L had a hair straightener that did the business.

Goddamn it, is this a thousand words yet?!

Screw you guys, I'm going home.

Posted by neuro-praxis on December 4, 2004 11:12 PM, in the category Mouldy Curtains