I'm drunk, what a fucking suprise.
Its almost five in the morning…my hands are cold, my fingers are like ten icy talons and I’m online to natter with Soph…. who has better things to do.
I’ll not fuck about. I have serious issues on my mind.
First of, why the hell has Faithy nailed her LJ, after that same person giving me shit for piking out on my own. That’s not right at all.
Secondly, I completely agree with her motives for doing that, LJ being a hotbed of inward feeling, moronic minded, foul and tempestuous less the personal feelings about how ‘I really feel, and want I want, and my dealings with, and what do they think’. Hey, that makes no fucking sense, but who the fuck cares!
And thirdly…well…there is no thirdly. I know what LJ is all about, and I embraced it, loved it, and contributed to it for a long time, when I had my reasons. Nowadays, I just voyeur, and what I see is lacking, and I have to admit, my enjoyment is less now Dan isn’t part of my reading.
That’s not to say that those on my ‘mates’ list don’t get me reading, I do actually read everything…occasionally. I have my reasons though…
I read Soph’s to see when she’s having her woman problems…or when she’s getting some…both can be the one and same I guess. But mainly I read it to see if she’s still alive sans our drunkard texting.
I look out for my mates on LJ, those being the great quantity on my friends list…but really, and to be honest, it all comes down to the same shit we talk about in the weekend anyway, and nothing illuminating comes about of any update.
I must admit, I read Chels’ with great glee, not to say she isn’t a mate, but only because I know when she gets all pressured up, she explodes, and says stuff…. and she gets away with it without any shit…that’s pure class really.
I’m prattling on…. I’ll give an update.
I’m still a bum, no work at the moment, haven’t thought about what to eat on Sunday, I know what I want to do, but that seems a million miles away, Ness is the shit, she hugs me when I need it, and feeds me beer whether its necessary or not, I get really mad at Bush, and I get really mad at Clark, but Clark actually means stuff, whereas brash doesn’t.
I had boiled eggs the other day, on a plate, as you do, and I tipped one of them on myself, and it stained my shit, and the floor, and I flew into a rage, and broke a mug. It was one of Ness’ mugs, but she was cool about it. I get angry sometimes.
I’m stressed about my two best mates, who are marrying the first girls they’ve fucked…. both girls are ‘nice’ especially Lydia, but its still a mindfuck for me. The whole thing seems rushed, but as I said to Cloudgirl the other day, ‘it may be a case of my own fear of commitment clouding my judgment’.
When I broke that mug, after I spilled a boiled egg, I used my shoe…my shoe I used to break that mug, that mug that held Milo.
Ness bought that mug. I felt bad afterwards. I really fucking did.
I play D&D with my mates, a lot of which you know…I feel bad when I don’t entertain them enough, and I feel bad when things don’t go right, especially when players don’t show, and bitches get in the way. Bitches are a hurdle that you should train hard to overcome…this applies to only the homosexual elements of my female readership, unless you like to pressure your man into being what he’s not.
I like to talk shit, which is illustrated in the above. I’m very drunk….my hands are cold (as I’ve said) but you’ve got to fucking realize…….
I’ll not fuck about. I have serious issues on my mind.
First of, why the hell has Faithy nailed her LJ, after that same person giving me shit for piking out on my own. That’s not right at all.
Secondly, I completely agree with her motives for doing that, LJ being a hotbed of inward feeling, moronic minded, foul and tempestuous less the personal feelings about how ‘I really feel, and want I want, and my dealings with, and what do they think’. Hey, that makes no fucking sense, but who the fuck cares!
And thirdly…well…there is no thirdly. I know what LJ is all about, and I embraced it, loved it, and contributed to it for a long time, when I had my reasons. Nowadays, I just voyeur, and what I see is lacking, and I have to admit, my enjoyment is less now Dan isn’t part of my reading.
That’s not to say that those on my ‘mates’ list don’t get me reading, I do actually read everything…occasionally. I have my reasons though…
I read Soph’s to see when she’s having her woman problems…or when she’s getting some…both can be the one and same I guess. But mainly I read it to see if she’s still alive sans our drunkard texting.
I look out for my mates on LJ, those being the great quantity on my friends list…but really, and to be honest, it all comes down to the same shit we talk about in the weekend anyway, and nothing illuminating comes about of any update.
I must admit, I read Chels’ with great glee, not to say she isn’t a mate, but only because I know when she gets all pressured up, she explodes, and says stuff…. and she gets away with it without any shit…that’s pure class really.
I’m prattling on…. I’ll give an update.
I’m still a bum, no work at the moment, haven’t thought about what to eat on Sunday, I know what I want to do, but that seems a million miles away, Ness is the shit, she hugs me when I need it, and feeds me beer whether its necessary or not, I get really mad at Bush, and I get really mad at Clark, but Clark actually means stuff, whereas brash doesn’t.
I had boiled eggs the other day, on a plate, as you do, and I tipped one of them on myself, and it stained my shit, and the floor, and I flew into a rage, and broke a mug. It was one of Ness’ mugs, but she was cool about it. I get angry sometimes.
I’m stressed about my two best mates, who are marrying the first girls they’ve fucked…. both girls are ‘nice’ especially Lydia, but its still a mindfuck for me. The whole thing seems rushed, but as I said to Cloudgirl the other day, ‘it may be a case of my own fear of commitment clouding my judgment’.
When I broke that mug, after I spilled a boiled egg, I used my shoe…my shoe I used to break that mug, that mug that held Milo.
Ness bought that mug. I felt bad afterwards. I really fucking did.
I play D&D with my mates, a lot of which you know…I feel bad when I don’t entertain them enough, and I feel bad when things don’t go right, especially when players don’t show, and bitches get in the way. Bitches are a hurdle that you should train hard to overcome…this applies to only the homosexual elements of my female readership, unless you like to pressure your man into being what he’s not.
I like to talk shit, which is illustrated in the above. I’m very drunk….my hands are cold (as I’ve said) but you’ve got to fucking realize…….