hello!
Wretched back-up computer! Also I've felt completely as flat and smooth as an old road this week, so not much posting going on. I think I'm behind with some fics, but all my notes were on the other machine. They should still be on the hard-drive but it cannot communicate due to a "cpu fan error", which is nasty. I'd add the hard-drive to this machine, but I ...er ...can't get the lid off.
I went to the German class on Wednesday, which was very hard work. The lecturer spoke nothing but German to me for three hours and I hadn't studied a word of it for sixteen years. Still, I seem to be in the same boat as everyone else except Mr Smugpants. Well, he didn't write an introductory essay about going to a Test match, did he? No, and neither should I with nothing but a mini-dictionary and vague ideas of Latin grammar. Talking of vague ideas, the ICC Super team is pretty rubbish, hope Fred doesn't strain anything. I went to buy some coffee in town (get the priorities right - drugs before food) and it was all a-twitch because someone reckoned they'd seen Frank Lampard in Habitat. Whatever happened to Mancunian cynicism?
So poor, I had to update my paid account for only two months and eat burnt lentils. I can't even rent out any dvds, as the only player is part of my brain-ded PC. Time to do more worthwhile intellectual pursuits, but conversely, I want to see in the winter with a good long computer-game session. I might get out the ps1 and find a second-hand copy of "Silent Hill" from somewhere. Did anyone see that programme about people writing their diaries for the Mass Observation people in the 50s? Darah Parish was so good and made me cry again.
If anyone has any birthdays or anything to say, do remind me. I wish I felt more somethingy or something.
I went to the German class on Wednesday, which was very hard work. The lecturer spoke nothing but German to me for three hours and I hadn't studied a word of it for sixteen years. Still, I seem to be in the same boat as everyone else except Mr Smugpants. Well, he didn't write an introductory essay about going to a Test match, did he? No, and neither should I with nothing but a mini-dictionary and vague ideas of Latin grammar. Talking of vague ideas, the ICC Super team is pretty rubbish, hope Fred doesn't strain anything. I went to buy some coffee in town (get the priorities right - drugs before food) and it was all a-twitch because someone reckoned they'd seen Frank Lampard in Habitat. Whatever happened to Mancunian cynicism?
So poor, I had to update my paid account for only two months and eat burnt lentils. I can't even rent out any dvds, as the only player is part of my brain-ded PC. Time to do more worthwhile intellectual pursuits, but conversely, I want to see in the winter with a good long computer-game session. I might get out the ps1 and find a second-hand copy of "Silent Hill" from somewhere. Did anyone see that programme about people writing their diaries for the Mass Observation people in the 50s? Darah Parish was so good and made me cry again.
If anyone has any birthdays or anything to say, do remind me. I wish I felt more somethingy or something.