(no subject)
Hello people, my friends and acquaintances. I'm in a strange mood this eve, last night I went to see Bobby play with the London Philharmonic, they were excellent. Made me wish I could play an instrument though, other than the pink flute that is....ooohhhhhhhhh.
I was talking to Jen last night;
"that other ball you went to was not your gradution ball?"
"no, it was a history and politics one, my graduation balls the end of this month"
"ooooh....two balls?"
I then started to giggle and couldn't stop for a while.
It was a giggly night in general, after the Philarmonic had banged out a massive set, soem children started to play a song about Brentwood. This man stood up and played a heart wrenching solo, followed by an orchestral tune worthy of the opening scene of 'Saving Private Ryan', juxtaposed with a picture of Sainsburys in Brentwood. I started giggling in a sea of silent;proud parents and I could not stop, for love nor money. This then turned to raucous laughter, so hard that I was shaking. If you only read the last 6 words of that last sentence, you'd wonder what I was writing about. Teehee.
Well, I'm on revision leave now, I have never revised properly before in my life and do not intend to start now. The day before I will read over my notes and be done with it, until then I am enjoying my free time, which shall hence forth become the sloth era. I woke up this AFTERNOON, did a cross word in this month's Puzzler, followed by a Sudoku. I spent the rest of the day playing Theme Hospital, later on I grabbed a spatula thing and grouted the tiles in the kitchen. The least productive day since your mum and dad conceived you ..oooooh once more.
I am quite worried about the hospital appointment next week, in which the doctors will cop a feel in order to determine whether my ovaries are as fucked as my mum and sister's. How shocked they'll be when they discover Gemma Lilley, the most fertile woman in the world. My ovaries are the stuff of legend. In fact I owe it to mankind to only select the most verile of males. Applications should be sent via post of email.
They don't put you out for these things do they? After seeing Kill Bill... makes me wonder why I had to take my underwear off for an opperation on the hand. Although I can understand how they would need quick access to the vagina, if I had had a reaction to the anesthetic.
Oh and I know the next verse to 'There was an Old man named Michael Finnigen'
"There was an old man named Michael Finnigen
He ate winkles of a pinngan,
the grew fat and then grew thin again,
poor old Michael Finnigen, begin again."
I was talking to Jen last night;
"that other ball you went to was not your gradution ball?"
"no, it was a history and politics one, my graduation balls the end of this month"
"ooooh....two balls?"
I then started to giggle and couldn't stop for a while.
It was a giggly night in general, after the Philarmonic had banged out a massive set, soem children started to play a song about Brentwood. This man stood up and played a heart wrenching solo, followed by an orchestral tune worthy of the opening scene of 'Saving Private Ryan', juxtaposed with a picture of Sainsburys in Brentwood. I started giggling in a sea of silent;proud parents and I could not stop, for love nor money. This then turned to raucous laughter, so hard that I was shaking. If you only read the last 6 words of that last sentence, you'd wonder what I was writing about. Teehee.
Well, I'm on revision leave now, I have never revised properly before in my life and do not intend to start now. The day before I will read over my notes and be done with it, until then I am enjoying my free time, which shall hence forth become the sloth era. I woke up this AFTERNOON, did a cross word in this month's Puzzler, followed by a Sudoku. I spent the rest of the day playing Theme Hospital, later on I grabbed a spatula thing and grouted the tiles in the kitchen. The least productive day since your mum and dad conceived you ..oooooh once more.
I am quite worried about the hospital appointment next week, in which the doctors will cop a feel in order to determine whether my ovaries are as fucked as my mum and sister's. How shocked they'll be when they discover Gemma Lilley, the most fertile woman in the world. My ovaries are the stuff of legend. In fact I owe it to mankind to only select the most verile of males. Applications should be sent via post of email.
They don't put you out for these things do they? After seeing Kill Bill... makes me wonder why I had to take my underwear off for an opperation on the hand. Although I can understand how they would need quick access to the vagina, if I had had a reaction to the anesthetic.
Oh and I know the next verse to 'There was an Old man named Michael Finnigen'
"There was an old man named Michael Finnigen
He ate winkles of a pinngan,
the grew fat and then grew thin again,
poor old Michael Finnigen, begin again."