(no subject)
Today I went for a nice walk with Holly from South Kensington to the NFT/BFI Southbank. I elaborated on my "only men broken by institutions" theory and realised I probably need to buckle down and shag Tory politicians even if the idea puts my socialist ideals into revolt.
Then I watched Blue Velvet with my dear boyfriend, which was more coherent than I was expecting but had the same oddly hilarious soap opera style acting as all of David Lynch's work and somewhat failed to shock me. I think it would have done had I watched it as a teenager (everything shocked me as a teenager) but now all the terrifying sexualised violence was somewhat less frightening than the contents of my porn folder. Linds was keen to hear my thoughts on it, though; sadly said thoughts were somewhat impeded by a bout of HUNGER RAGE.
(Jane Goldman and Jonathan Ross were at the NFT as well)
And then I got home (we danced up the garden path. Swing dancing) and my father had added me on Google+ and while that's probably just him emptying all his contacts into Google+ but it has retroactively enshittened my day. BOO. FUCKING. HISS.
Poetry
Realistic Vow-Giving
Then I watched Blue Velvet with my dear boyfriend, which was more coherent than I was expecting but had the same oddly hilarious soap opera style acting as all of David Lynch's work and somewhat failed to shock me. I think it would have done had I watched it as a teenager (everything shocked me as a teenager) but now all the terrifying sexualised violence was somewhat less frightening than the contents of my porn folder. Linds was keen to hear my thoughts on it, though; sadly said thoughts were somewhat impeded by a bout of HUNGER RAGE.
(Jane Goldman and Jonathan Ross were at the NFT as well)
And then I got home (we danced up the garden path. Swing dancing) and my father had added me on Google+ and while that's probably just him emptying all his contacts into Google+ but it has retroactively enshittened my day. BOO. FUCKING. HISS.
Poetry
Realistic Vow-Giving