You always fall in love so you've got something to run from
Bloody hellfire, despite a relatively sedate weekend I've once again proved utterly abysmal at keeping this damn thing up to date.
Well, let's go right back to the last night shift, which was possibly the most fun I've had on a night shift, ever. Nigel had bought in his projector, and chipped Xbox, and we whiled away *our exact alloted break times, and no longer* playing Tetris, Super Bomberman, and a brilliant four player racing game called Mashed. Now often cheap games are brilliant ideas, poorly realised. This on the other hand was an insanely addictive little bastard of a game which kept us more than occupied for our hour long lunch break and two fifteen minute breaks and not a moment longer. It was this evening's entertainment that prompted me to download a SNES emulator, and the last few days has been spent in a haze of nostalgia, with F-Zero, Super Probotector, Mega Man X, Super Mario World and the like.
Thursday night, thought I'd go out for a quiet pint with dangersxuntold. This turned into a not so quiet few drinks, joined by lost_in_music_, Dale and Heather. With startling inevitability, this led to Rock City (on A Level results night, no less). Rock City's really not so bad when you avoid going for months, and I had a startlingly enjoyable evening, even without the aid of too much whiskey.
Friday night was a strangely quiet Magenta, people were probably watching Big Brother, which saddens me more than words. If you were one of those people, shame on you :p Still, I once again enjoyed myself. I talked aligheri and I talked shop for an hour, while knocking back a pint of Moonshine; then talked about DJing with Gareth for another hour. With all this, I completely failed to talk to anyone else, sorry to the few others of you who came out. Also, props to Mike for playing Dropkick, followed skillfully by the Dropkick Murphys. That's the sort of trick that I like to pull :D
And so on to Saturday night. Spent far too much time waiting for jonthebloody to pull his finger out and get back to Notts, then went to the White Hart for a swift pint before midnight. Once again, no one was out, I don't know what the hell people were playing at. By the sounds of things, I made the right decision not trying to get to Leicester though. Post-pub, and off to strawberryearth's place. Another pleasant few hours with people I didn't know too well (aside from voodooangel and the_alleycat), helped me play 'join the dots' between social groups a little, which is always interesting.
Sunday night was uneventful bar another Bond film in the shape of 'License to Kill'. Still trying to get through them all before the new one in November. Work today has been largely crap as well, being on the phones all day and it being unlikely I can get the holiday I want next week.
Now a couple of observations. Firstly, Primark. What the hell is it with people going on about this bloody place? I always assumed it was just another Peacocks, but seeing as my friends list was awash with comments about the new Nottingham store I felt compelled to see what it was all about. As expected, it's just cheap and nasty. A quick scout round the men's section revealed charity shop type shirts, and suits so shiny they look like the sort a 16 year old would wear for their first job interview. I never claimed to be fashionable or any of that rubbish (I never had the imagination), but at least my clothes aren't likely to fall apart after their first wash.
Secondly, it's rare that I feel thedarkproject's pain, but my recent trials and tribulations with the Post Office made me appreciate the hell he seems to frequently go through. So, some chav fuckers have broken in to some of our 'secure' mailboxes (not ours, but several others). The Post Office (rightly) is refusing to deliver mail until the boxes are properly secured. So Friday afternoon saw me trek down to the PO in town to find where my mail was being held (I was expecting a much needed cheque). Once we'd got past disinterested chav bint, and arrogant chav supervisor (no, i'm not going to call that number again, it's FULLY AUTOMATED, bitch), we got to pleasant manager who informed me that to his best knowledge mail was being held at Glaisdale out past Wollaton. The problem with this? Well the PO doesn't operate on real people time, so it was already closed that day (at 2pm), and Saturday it was due to close at half ten. So, early Saturday I double checked the mailboxes (empty), made my way all the way to Glaisdale where I was told mail was being held, and I was presented with the one item they were holding for me, but not the expected cheque. Annoyed, I came home to find THE FUCKERS HAD DELIVERED IT WHILE I WAS OUT. They'd even delivered mail to some of the broken boxes. Fucking inconsistent wankers. Grrrrrr.
Right, it's late, and I've rambled long enough. I shall sign off by mentioning the ApocalypseGirls MySpace page I created in a fit of boredom.
Well, let's go right back to the last night shift, which was possibly the most fun I've had on a night shift, ever. Nigel had bought in his projector, and chipped Xbox, and we whiled away *our exact alloted break times, and no longer* playing Tetris, Super Bomberman, and a brilliant four player racing game called Mashed. Now often cheap games are brilliant ideas, poorly realised. This on the other hand was an insanely addictive little bastard of a game which kept us more than occupied for our hour long lunch break and two fifteen minute breaks and not a moment longer. It was this evening's entertainment that prompted me to download a SNES emulator, and the last few days has been spent in a haze of nostalgia, with F-Zero, Super Probotector, Mega Man X, Super Mario World and the like.
Thursday night, thought I'd go out for a quiet pint with dangersxuntold. This turned into a not so quiet few drinks, joined by lost_in_music_, Dale and Heather. With startling inevitability, this led to Rock City (on A Level results night, no less). Rock City's really not so bad when you avoid going for months, and I had a startlingly enjoyable evening, even without the aid of too much whiskey.
Friday night was a strangely quiet Magenta, people were probably watching Big Brother, which saddens me more than words. If you were one of those people, shame on you :p Still, I once again enjoyed myself. I talked aligheri and I talked shop for an hour, while knocking back a pint of Moonshine; then talked about DJing with Gareth for another hour. With all this, I completely failed to talk to anyone else, sorry to the few others of you who came out. Also, props to Mike for playing Dropkick, followed skillfully by the Dropkick Murphys. That's the sort of trick that I like to pull :D
And so on to Saturday night. Spent far too much time waiting for jonthebloody to pull his finger out and get back to Notts, then went to the White Hart for a swift pint before midnight. Once again, no one was out, I don't know what the hell people were playing at. By the sounds of things, I made the right decision not trying to get to Leicester though. Post-pub, and off to strawberryearth's place. Another pleasant few hours with people I didn't know too well (aside from voodooangel and the_alleycat), helped me play 'join the dots' between social groups a little, which is always interesting.
Sunday night was uneventful bar another Bond film in the shape of 'License to Kill'. Still trying to get through them all before the new one in November. Work today has been largely crap as well, being on the phones all day and it being unlikely I can get the holiday I want next week.
Now a couple of observations. Firstly, Primark. What the hell is it with people going on about this bloody place? I always assumed it was just another Peacocks, but seeing as my friends list was awash with comments about the new Nottingham store I felt compelled to see what it was all about. As expected, it's just cheap and nasty. A quick scout round the men's section revealed charity shop type shirts, and suits so shiny they look like the sort a 16 year old would wear for their first job interview. I never claimed to be fashionable or any of that rubbish (I never had the imagination), but at least my clothes aren't likely to fall apart after their first wash.
Secondly, it's rare that I feel thedarkproject's pain, but my recent trials and tribulations with the Post Office made me appreciate the hell he seems to frequently go through. So, some chav fuckers have broken in to some of our 'secure' mailboxes (not ours, but several others). The Post Office (rightly) is refusing to deliver mail until the boxes are properly secured. So Friday afternoon saw me trek down to the PO in town to find where my mail was being held (I was expecting a much needed cheque). Once we'd got past disinterested chav bint, and arrogant chav supervisor (no, i'm not going to call that number again, it's FULLY AUTOMATED, bitch), we got to pleasant manager who informed me that to his best knowledge mail was being held at Glaisdale out past Wollaton. The problem with this? Well the PO doesn't operate on real people time, so it was already closed that day (at 2pm), and Saturday it was due to close at half ten. So, early Saturday I double checked the mailboxes (empty), made my way all the way to Glaisdale where I was told mail was being held, and I was presented with the one item they were holding for me, but not the expected cheque. Annoyed, I came home to find THE FUCKERS HAD DELIVERED IT WHILE I WAS OUT. They'd even delivered mail to some of the broken boxes. Fucking inconsistent wankers. Grrrrrr.
Right, it's late, and I've rambled long enough. I shall sign off by mentioning the ApocalypseGirls MySpace page I created in a fit of boredom.