How uz ur Ch’ismus?

A friend in Japan, a works do, an evil nightmare that actually turned into a really good short story once I’d had enough tea, a broken tooth (when you’re eating popcorn there’s always one little fucker that dunt pop and decides to be the hardest substance known to enamel), laughter and distractions, Bruce Willis, mugs that help me choose a shade of tea, Splat Stan and gory gory endings, Wallace and Gromit and shits n’ giggles, a ball-bouncingly excellent ‘Doctor bloody Who’, Mel Gibson and Danny Glover, new black-black gel nails (and I’m only wearing black until they invent a darker colour), iPod Bob III’s 978 songs on random, fan-fic reading and voting and hoping.

And then back to work.

How was your Christmas then?

Called the dentist this morning - not easy since I narrowly escaped Death By Wisdom Tooth by Consequent Excavation a while ago. I think I developed Dentophobia straight after that. Or it could have been the second wisdom tooth and the two-hour foundation digging that followed that caused it. Not sure. Anyway, have an appointment for Wednesday morning. Should be all kindsa fun and games, right? Think I shall be humming either Bad Company or Steve Carlson the entire visit. If only to stop me gibbering like a girl and running for the street like my arse is on fire.

Behold my excellent mug and coaster. Yay, tis a dead man! How fab is that!



Got a few good snaps of the weird and wonderful over the two-day break. Which I will of course share in forthcoming posts. My new year’s resolution? 1680 x 1050. And that I’ll continue to go to the gym, but int morning instead of last thing at night. And that I’ll post more often. Cos I have been really lazy recently. Or just not int mood. Hmm.

And then I started another ‘Supernatural’ fan-fiction. It’s season four (but I’m not into fiddling with on-going story arcs or canon) so assumes a few spoilers are understood, but other than that we’re back to gore, giggles, fights, drinking and plain old murder and mayhem. Excellent! Your link is below, of course. Don’t say I never give you owt.

Also available at the members’ site SPNVille.net.

And that's all the news that's fit to print.

Soopytwist.

Tags:
Christmas ~ movies ~ dentists ~ TV ~ Supernatural ~ fan-fic

O I C

I’m upset cos we’ve lost Majel Barret-Roddenberry. It’s not fair. I’m adding that to the list of reasons why there is no one God.


I’m upset cos I’ve finally realised why people get married. And it’s not what I thought. They go out and get married cos if you don’t, you end up by yourself, bored, and alone. Not lonely, just alone. When all the drinks have been paid for and the stools are on the tables, and Mr Barman is trying to shoo you quietly but firmly out of the door so he can finally close up, you know why people get married. When someone asks you to change an appointment and the only reason to say ‘no’ is your own stubbornness, not someone else’s plans, you know why people get married. When people ask what you want for a Christmas / birthday present etc. and you say ‘nothing’ cos you buy what you want if you really want it, cos let’s face it, no-one else lives in your life, you know why people get married. When you carry your shopping home from the supermarket and open your fridge to put it away, and everything is exactly as you left it since the last time you shopped, you know why people get married. The boredom of knowing everything will still be in the same place cos there’s no-one else around to fuck it up or move it. The ineluctable dreariness of cleaning your own flat even though it’s just you in it anyway and the only thing that’s making the mess is Time. The same songs on random shuffle on your player. Knowing all the words to your favourite part of your favourite movie cos you’ve seen it by yourself fifty fucking times. Having time to get lost in your obsessions cos there is nothing else. Going out and getting hammered twice or three times a week cos there’s literally nothing else to do. Jarvis Cocker had this to say ont subject: ‘You’ll never live like common people, you’ll never do what common people do, you’ll never fail like common people, you’ll never watch your life slide out of view, and dance and drink and screw, because there’s nothing else to do.’


So it’s just to fill your life with noise and disruption? Just so you know summat is happening, summat of import is going on right under your nose cos there’s a husband and kids screaming round the place, all thinking the universe revolves around them? And then you join the battle not to dumped into the ‘just a housewife’ category, with no hobbies or dreams or cares outside of getting little Jimmy’s PE kit washed in time, or helping little Becky get her English homework right for morning? Is that all there is?


So remind me what I’m missing out on again? I can’t live with someone, and I can’t live with just me. It drives me nuts.


So we turn up the music and refill the vodka glass and do it all over again. Cos it’s better than any alternative. And you remember that everyone’s in the same boat, whether they realise it or not, and then you think ‘fuck it’ and just get more drinks in. You find an obsession or two and lavish your time on them. Cos that’s all there is. If I didn’t do this, if I didn’t drink and write and dream, I don’t know how I’d handle the tedium of Life in all its banalities and bromidic Trojan horses that feed you insipid excuses for excitement and flavour.


But isn’t that what everyone thinks? ‘Oh fuck me, how do I make today more interesting?’ Or am I just weary of the same old routine from week to week? I have an idea. Hang on, I’ll be right back.


Right. Got my ‘Little Book Of Chaos’ by Craig Brown off the shelf (thanks, SJ, for getting me this way back when). Ok, ready?

REMAINING ALERT
How to remain alert, even when sipping a soothing mug of tea:
Find a broken mug.
Glue its handle back on.
Now, whenever you sip tea from this cup you will feel on red alert.

Tags:
Hong Kong ~ chaos

They’re going to get letters

Dear upstairs neighbour,

For the love of [Stephen Fry / Eric Kripke / Bruce Campbell ~~ delete deity as appropriate] and your own body, will you hold the goddamned drilling at eight o’clock in the fucking morning!

Other people live in this block of flats - that’s why they’re called RESIDENTIAL - and I’m sure everyone would be much happier and more much well-adjusted if you’d stop pounding at the walls and drilling at what sounds like tungsten fucking carbide well before the actual allowed hour of 9am.

I wouldn’t mind so much if it were just one morning, but five in a row? What in the present continuous Hell can you be doing for five fucking mornings to such a weeny-assed bloody flat? There’s only six hundred feet in the first place, and most of them do not contain walls. So unless you’re Great Escape-ing through to next door, cut it the fuck out!

Next door has the most annoyingly small yappy dog in the the bloody universe, but even they know when to make sure it’s quiet and unseen. Can it be so hard for you to NOT drill till 9am?

When the entire block has had time to learn all the words to my Led Zeppelin and Bad Company albums, which I’m playing loud enough to be heard over the Mainland border to counter-act your noise pollution, I’m sure you’ll start getting other letters too. Just not in English, or in fact straight sentences that aren’t ninety per cent expletives.

Yours in a red rage of being fucked-off,
Your downstairs neighbour.


Tags:
Hong Kong