(no subject)
Me and Ruth have found an apartment. It's in City Island and it's absolutely amazing. Reasonably priced too! It's brand new, we'd be the first people to have lived there. It has a balcony that looks out onto the Leeds/Liverpool canal. Only a ten minute walk into the city centre. It has a lounge/kitchen type deal which I wasn't too keen on the idea of, but it's split out by a nice breakfast bar. What's really sold it to me is how huge the bedroom is - plenty of storage space for our combined shoe collections. Anyway, we're going through referencing at the moment though, which is terrifying me. I've always had kinda shaky credit. I mean, I have credit cards and an Apple loan and a mobile phone account, but I do still get the occasional knock-back too. The agency assured me that the check's not too rigorous though, and even if it does bounce me back they can work stuff out around it! If we do get the place (I don't even want to consider not getting it, because I've already mentally moved in there!) then I figure I am going to sell my car and my shell drums - gotta keep the snare/cymbals. The car is no problem as I'm in walking distance of the city and the rail station. Plus it's due to have it's MOT and the tax is about to expire, so it's about to cost me a whole fuckload of money that I could do not to spend. The drums I will sell because I'll have nowhere to keep them and no way of transporting them around. I figure I can beg, borrow, hire or steal whenever it comes to playing gigs or rehearsing. So between the car and the drums I ought to drum up some nice money to buy cool shit for the new pad. Because it's unfurnished. Eeeek! Ruth's mum is buying us some bedroom type shit and her dad is getting us a sofa. I want a Dualit four-deck toaster. I'm hellfuckingbent on getting that. What's cool is that the kitchen comes with Smeg refrigerator and washer/dryer. Smeg baby!!! Awesome.
I can't stop farting this morning. I had pizza last night. And untold quantities of Guinness. Me and Matt watched Bad Santa again. Not the greatest movie in the world but jeez it has some of the finest quotes I've ever heard!
"I've always had a thing for Santa Claus, in case you didn't notice, it's like some deep-seeded childhood thing."
"So's my thing for tits."
"I want a gorilla named Davey for beating up the skateboard kids who pull on my underwear. And he could take his orders from the talking walnut, so it wouldn't be my bad thing."
I'm going to leave my car at work tonight so I can go into town straight from work and get pissed up on booze. Turbonegro play tonight so that ought to be good for shits and giggle. Which reminds me of another amazing quote...
Happy Tom: "Hey, my father died in Auschwitz... He fell off a watchtower!"
I just did another 'desk-fart' - they ruddy reek!!! This is gross - it's so obvious that I've farted! Hey - this is my fuck you, my protest song. Played on the bumtrumpet.
ASSCLOWN!!!
I can't stop farting this morning. I had pizza last night. And untold quantities of Guinness. Me and Matt watched Bad Santa again. Not the greatest movie in the world but jeez it has some of the finest quotes I've ever heard!
"I've always had a thing for Santa Claus, in case you didn't notice, it's like some deep-seeded childhood thing."
"So's my thing for tits."
"I want a gorilla named Davey for beating up the skateboard kids who pull on my underwear. And he could take his orders from the talking walnut, so it wouldn't be my bad thing."
I'm going to leave my car at work tonight so I can go into town straight from work and get pissed up on booze. Turbonegro play tonight so that ought to be good for shits and giggle. Which reminds me of another amazing quote...
Happy Tom: "Hey, my father died in Auschwitz... He fell off a watchtower!"
I just did another 'desk-fart' - they ruddy reek!!! This is gross - it's so obvious that I've farted! Hey - this is my fuck you, my protest song. Played on the bumtrumpet.
ASSCLOWN!!!