....I'm looking for trouble tonight.......
The weekend - headed north on Friday, got to Andrea's house via the most expensive taxi journey ever outside of London cos I'd caught the rush hour traffic. But the driver was nice and switched the meter off when we got into a massive queue, and spoke slowly so I could understand him (while my ears were still adjusting from ooh-arr to ecky thoomp :P). Andrea got home and made a really nice bolognaise before introducing me to the joys of 'Pooh Goes Apeshit', a turn richly rewarded by the rendition of the Gothic Night Before Christmas, which you may peruse here:
http://www.deadlounge.com/xmas/gothicnight.html
I had some wine which was probably a bad idea and went to sleep. The next morning I had to get up extremely early for my lit exam at Leeds university. This wasn't bad, as I seem to be far better read than I realised, although I did get a fit of the giggles at one question. Afterwards I felt fucking atrocious, I like the way that a three hour stint in the gym makes me a bit sweaty but three hours of exam makes me unwell and drained. I walked to meet Andrea, George and Andrea's landlord Grant at the corn exchange, where it seems the teenygoths congregate, and we had some extremely sweet and gooey cakes and looked in shops. That night we went to the Cockpit, COF had been playing locally and the place was full of huge guys in Meads of Asphodel and Finntroll t shirts, and I pulled. This is perhaps the tenth time since I've been single but it's the first time it's been both mentioned and the post hasn't been locked and hasn't been filtered in terms of which friends can see it. Basically, I think cooling-off is due after breakups, but there's now been more than enough of that and probably not enough sordid rumour-spreading considering how mischievous I actually am. I'm meeting the guy again. Anyhow: Don't attach any importance to my meeting this guy, I only just met him. However, he seems nice.
Meanwhile Grant had drunk his own weight in lager and was pogoing to Rage against the Machine in the teeny room, after eating one of those battered sausages. We left the club after I'd arranged to see The Dude on New Year's Eve, and Grant managed to get hold of another battered sausage despite having difficulty making himself understood in the chippie. We wandered down the street behind Dani Filth, who looked like a total and utter cock although he's not quite as short as some claim.
Sunday, I went home, not much to say there. Thanks very to Andrea for putting me up and driving me to the station, lovely to see you again and to meet George and Grant.
The week in work so far's been ok. They're impressed by how fast I can do stuff, I think.
http://www.deadlounge.com/xmas/gothicnight.html
I had some wine which was probably a bad idea and went to sleep. The next morning I had to get up extremely early for my lit exam at Leeds university. This wasn't bad, as I seem to be far better read than I realised, although I did get a fit of the giggles at one question. Afterwards I felt fucking atrocious, I like the way that a three hour stint in the gym makes me a bit sweaty but three hours of exam makes me unwell and drained. I walked to meet Andrea, George and Andrea's landlord Grant at the corn exchange, where it seems the teenygoths congregate, and we had some extremely sweet and gooey cakes and looked in shops. That night we went to the Cockpit, COF had been playing locally and the place was full of huge guys in Meads of Asphodel and Finntroll t shirts, and I pulled. This is perhaps the tenth time since I've been single but it's the first time it's been both mentioned and the post hasn't been locked and hasn't been filtered in terms of which friends can see it. Basically, I think cooling-off is due after breakups, but there's now been more than enough of that and probably not enough sordid rumour-spreading considering how mischievous I actually am. I'm meeting the guy again. Anyhow: Don't attach any importance to my meeting this guy, I only just met him. However, he seems nice.
Meanwhile Grant had drunk his own weight in lager and was pogoing to Rage against the Machine in the teeny room, after eating one of those battered sausages. We left the club after I'd arranged to see The Dude on New Year's Eve, and Grant managed to get hold of another battered sausage despite having difficulty making himself understood in the chippie. We wandered down the street behind Dani Filth, who looked like a total and utter cock although he's not quite as short as some claim.
Sunday, I went home, not much to say there. Thanks very to Andrea for putting me up and driving me to the station, lovely to see you again and to meet George and Grant.
The week in work so far's been ok. They're impressed by how fast I can do stuff, I think.