Heavy eyelids, pretty good day
Went out shopping today... found a big fat bargain.
In a secondhand bookshop.
The upshot is that I have spent another £13 on Doctor Who target novelisations. Now my collection numbers 18 out of, oh, seemingly hundreds. But I got 11 books for £13 - good? Yes! Including The Ribos Operation, which was done by Ian Marter, so it's extra super special because he's dead. (And engaging. Dead and engaging - now he's made for life or eternity, whichever is the better.) If I ever have to sell them I'm going to cry.
And then smile because some poor sap is prepared to pay more money than I did for the books.
Anyway, two big points:
1) Anyone who proposes special pregnancy parking space will be kicked in the fat pregnant arse and be subjected to an hour-long discussion on why dysmenorrhoea parking spaces are much better. Or diarrhoea. I mean, you chose to get preggers, I didn't choose to feel like my kidneys are being pulled out of the small of my back every month, so fuck off. I guess it's a moot point as I can't drive, but if I could, I'd lobby for preggers arse-kicking and dysmenorrhoea parking spaces. Or even severe blister parking spaces, and a rule saying anyone with blisters on their feet has priority over lots of other people for sitting down on public transport. (I've been in that unenviable position. Rarely have I wanted to kill some drunken young men with such fervour as they got to sit down to rest their unblistered feet while I had to stand up and feel like my shoes were filling with blood every time the train jerked. Next time I'll haul them off the seat myself using the Kick in Groin technique - a man is remdered helpless for 3.7 minutes after being kicked in the groin.) Yeah, I'm looking at you, Pregnant Kay, Queen of England, from some Godforsaken province.
2) Anyone who thinks that the most important decision a gay person ever makes is the colour of fabric for a new sofa, and then uses the "As a parent" spiel to justify why they should of course be running the country instead of a gay politician, will be severely Chinese-burned and forced to watch the whole of Das Ring der Nibelungen at half speed. Yeah, I'm looking at you, Lowri Turner. (Some retarded name.)
3) Anyone who replies to this post saying "Mmmm" will be held upside-down in a vat of lukewarm marmalade. Yeah, I'm looking at you...
4) Anyone who tries to respond to point no. 1 with the assumption that because I have a uterus I will one day allow a parasitic little fetus to inhabit it will get the comment deleted. Try and come up with a real argument, if you can stretch your limited metal resources to extent that you stretched your labia during childbirth. Which I don't think is very likely. Was that YOU, Denise? Because you can fuck right off and take your silly little soccer mommy assumptions with you. I hate everything you stand for.
5) Finally, anyone who thinks that my whole personality can be summed up in a single LJ post can... go ahead and listen to seventeen hours of German opera while being encased to the neck in camel diarrhoea. Starting at the crown of the head.
Disabled comments because I'd rather get actual content in my email account and because I don't know how people are coming here - either there are lots of really boring people on LJ who think that internet persona = life persona or you're all from that message board I've given up on. Ciao!
In a secondhand bookshop.
The upshot is that I have spent another £13 on Doctor Who target novelisations. Now my collection numbers 18 out of, oh, seemingly hundreds. But I got 11 books for £13 - good? Yes! Including The Ribos Operation, which was done by Ian Marter, so it's extra super special because he's dead. (And engaging. Dead and engaging - now he's made for life or eternity, whichever is the better.) If I ever have to sell them I'm going to cry.
And then smile because some poor sap is prepared to pay more money than I did for the books.
Anyway, two big points:
1) Anyone who proposes special pregnancy parking space will be kicked in the fat pregnant arse and be subjected to an hour-long discussion on why dysmenorrhoea parking spaces are much better. Or diarrhoea. I mean, you chose to get preggers, I didn't choose to feel like my kidneys are being pulled out of the small of my back every month, so fuck off. I guess it's a moot point as I can't drive, but if I could, I'd lobby for preggers arse-kicking and dysmenorrhoea parking spaces. Or even severe blister parking spaces, and a rule saying anyone with blisters on their feet has priority over lots of other people for sitting down on public transport. (I've been in that unenviable position. Rarely have I wanted to kill some drunken young men with such fervour as they got to sit down to rest their unblistered feet while I had to stand up and feel like my shoes were filling with blood every time the train jerked. Next time I'll haul them off the seat myself using the Kick in Groin technique - a man is remdered helpless for 3.7 minutes after being kicked in the groin.) Yeah, I'm looking at you, Pregnant Kay, Queen of England, from some Godforsaken province.
2) Anyone who thinks that the most important decision a gay person ever makes is the colour of fabric for a new sofa, and then uses the "As a parent" spiel to justify why they should of course be running the country instead of a gay politician, will be severely Chinese-burned and forced to watch the whole of Das Ring der Nibelungen at half speed. Yeah, I'm looking at you, Lowri Turner. (Some retarded name.)
3) Anyone who replies to this post saying "Mmmm" will be held upside-down in a vat of lukewarm marmalade. Yeah, I'm looking at you...
4) Anyone who tries to respond to point no. 1 with the assumption that because I have a uterus I will one day allow a parasitic little fetus to inhabit it will get the comment deleted. Try and come up with a real argument, if you can stretch your limited metal resources to extent that you stretched your labia during childbirth. Which I don't think is very likely. Was that YOU, Denise? Because you can fuck right off and take your silly little soccer mommy assumptions with you. I hate everything you stand for.
5) Finally, anyone who thinks that my whole personality can be summed up in a single LJ post can... go ahead and listen to seventeen hours of German opera while being encased to the neck in camel diarrhoea. Starting at the crown of the head.
Disabled comments because I'd rather get actual content in my email account and because I don't know how people are coming here - either there are lots of really boring people on LJ who think that internet persona = life persona or you're all from that message board I've given up on. Ciao!