North:
South:
South:
boo to the blue question mark.
I have been looking for an excuse to post the manga crabs pic all day.
This one’s for AMUNDSEN:
What blue question mark? Eh?
Is a blue question mark the new red X?
I’m with Kate on this one. Our new housemate’s gf is super-hott, and we get on really well and on the same wavelength as each other (rare for me) and I curse everything and everyone that she’s not single. Sigh.
Here’s a cool pic of the space shuttle taking off:
blue question mark is the red x in safari.
That space shuttle photo is indeed very cool.
I’m in firefox and we get an image broken if half thing. Like this, but without the green smiley thing:
Oh, dagnamit.
Exactly like that, in fact!
I do apologise for my outburst.
I can simply no longer keep up with FP’s conquests and it’s making me jealous sick.
If I am not having sex, and cannot even foresee the possibility of sex*, it’s quite difficult to listen to people bragging on and on about their various conquests.
*Unless of course, the collective members of the ‘Cooler send round a collection plate and approach PBW, asking “PLEASE, for the love of GOD would you sleep with Kate and put us out of her misery. We will pay you. And bribe you with this barrel of ::your favourite tipple:: and the Tom Waits box set.
I think FP enjoys being the watercooler sex god.
Oh! BTW, Ed! If you are still reading.
Dare is back in town—I asked her if she fancied Magpies Nest, but she’s bursting full of gossip, so I suspect that we are going to go somewhere we can sit and chatter and now worry about disturbing other people listening to music. Coz the two of us are pretty much incapable of being quiet when we are together. :-)
I’m sorry, Kate, I’ll shut up.
I can’t see myself ever being any sort of sex god, Kerr.
It’s OK, FP. That’s just why I’m trying to make a joke of it, rather than being properly cranky.
Ok, K.
Don’t let the iguana poison you again.
The iguana wasn’t even there last time! I am going to INSIST that we do not eat in the hotel. I may even grab a pasty before I head over.
She wants to go ice skating.
Oh a completely different note:
Errrr... no comment on what little drummer brother is doing, but wow, blimey, look at that smile. Megamillionwatt smile brighterthanthesun supernovadazzlingdentistry. I wonder what magnitude Henrietta Leavitt would have made of that.
::melts in little pool under desk::
No, go away, I’m not doing any more financial analyses today, I’m being a little gooey girl.
Bimey, that’s big! Actual size, perhaps!
Would someone mind smallifying that? It wasn’t that big on MySpace!
That’s what FP says the goth girl in his office said.
Quit it!
Jill was talking to the woman who lives in the house behind us. Apparently her son (the guy from that “neighbour trouble” thread I started a couple of years ago) actually moved out a couple of months ago, and now lives w/his g/f a mile or so away from us. Life gets a little better sometimes, eh. (though I pity his new neighbours)
The iguana was paying therefore it is his fault ;-P
Apparently the iguana is doing a photo shoot tonight.
Like, a proper photo shoot where they’re going to be, errr, *styled* and shit. This is why Dare is escaping to go ice skating cause she says if anyone tries to put makeup on the other little drummer brother, he will actually punch them.
Oh, thank the gods of phuck, Pash. He’s someone else’s problem now. Hopefuly your neighbourhood can sleep a little easier now.
How come Canadians always have so many TEETH?!?!
...and don’t say Canadian national dentistry. ;-)
Dude was born in Clapham!
Yeah, my cousin was born in Ireland, but he’s got Canadian teeth like that!
Ha ha, I can call him Fake Britishes now. (Jim, not my cousin.)
Oh, and BTW, I found my green card—it was tucked safely inside my passport so I’m not fake Merkin any more. Well, *legally* fake Merkin.
I live five minutes away from Clapham and let me tell you, most people from Clapham got teeth from the Big Book Of British Smiles.
That is Canadian dentistry at its finest.
Shit, I gotta get out of here and get to Kensington. Ah well, at least they’re not in the Dorchester this time.
Quit it!
Nah I don’t get the impression she said that to him.
Gargh, I have been struck down with some kind of gastric lurgy, I’ve had to curtail my evening.
Hello there.
Someone tried to kick one of my car windows in last night. The driver’s door window. Whilst I was sat in the driving seat. I hate this town sometimes.
No, I mean all the time.
Kate might be interested to know that one of my goth friend’s male friends is ginger, freckled, pointy-nosed, and plays guitar.
The car has started splooging oil out of the bottom of the engine. It looks like it’s going to be expensive.
I sweated a poor sleep last night and I feel pretty grim this morning. Cheer me up.
Pfunk boy, I received gifts from the faeries last night but I haven’t had a chance to listen to them yet. I wasn’t feeling up to it. I haven’t even spun the shiny green delia derbyshire record yet.
Did you hear about the herb that didn’t pay his mortgage?
He ran out of thyme and the bayleafs came round!
(did it work?)
It is certainly helping.
Uuuuuuhhhh, JB, that was a classic. It made my entire department groan.
Oh no, Ed—gastric flu? You mean maybe it wasn’t food poisoning that I had? Rubb.
Bah to car trouble and chav trouble.
This morning I am mainly squabbling with my actual brother about Winter Consumerfest. What funs. He thinks I object to the baby jesus. I’m fine with baby jesus, I just object to the national obsessed with debt and consumerist frenzy. Soon we will be arguing about economics, and I’ll call him a Tory and he’ll call me the L-word. Hurrah!
How’s your bronchial trouble—Norman?
could be, last night turned into a bit of a bust.
I’ve just had a hot chocolate and that appears to have been a bad idea. I forgot to bring any peppermint tea in with me.
Ed, two words: GINGER. TEA.
How’s your ribs, doing, Dr. C?
Bah, it’s like a casualty ward in here with us lot!
here is a smily DDB to cheer me us all up:
Though ha ha, I narrowly avoided being dragged back into the restaurant that started my whole ordeal by St00g3s last night. Ron got me in a TISSP-lock and tried to drag me into the elevator going “come on, Kate! it can’t hurt you just to drink up there!” and I was all noooooooooo and ran away down Kensington High Street. :-)
(I would not reccomend making tea out of Benjamin, even if he is ginger, though. He might squeak a bit when you got him in the pot and poured boiling water on him. Though redheads don’t feel pain, do they?)
Ribs are not too bad, thx Kate. But I think I have aggrovated a long-standing back problem by continually bending and stretching awkwardly to keep the ribs protected. I could hardly bend down last night, but it seems much better now. Time will tell. I have two targets to be fit for a) nu-band rehearsal next week and b) rugby on boxing day.
Hi all! Finally got round to registering.
Sorry to hear about people’s bodily and automobile troubles etc, but also always happy to read a good pun of a Tuesday morning :)
I seem to have spent more time at the ante-natal clinic than at my house this last week—was measuring a bit small so many scans followed and I might have to be induced early due to low levels of amniotic fluid :(
Will find out what the consultant wants to do this afternoon—I may be a mum in the next few days!! Arrgh!!!!
Omigod, so soon, Arch! Still, I hope everything goes OK and you and Junior are as healthy as possible. At least if you are induced, then you know approximately when baby will arrive, as opposed to unscheduled delivery (hunh hunh) on Christmas eve...
The pun went down well among the pun fans in our office too.
(ie, me, and Karen the accounts supervisor)
Good luck Archel!
If the sprog *was* born on Christmas Eve, you could traumatise him/her tell him/her that he/she was brought by Father Christmas!
Good (late) morning, all! Best of luck, Archel! Baby soon!
I wrote a whole song last night!
Hurrah for songwriting! What’s it called, what does it sound like?
It’s called ‘Rest up for Night’, I wrote it in like TWO HOURS, and it sounds like POWER POP (ok, at times I was sure I was ripping off the following bands: the pixies, guided by voices, spoon, the smiths—no joke—but by the end, as usual, it’s safe to say it sounds like none of these).
Yay to baby archel, and mummy and daddy archel, come to that. Many good lucks—I’ll ensure everything is crossed for you.
Yay to power-pop songwriting indeed—I hope it’s a keeper, and not one you THINK is great, but you’ll look at this evening and go “nah, it’s nonsense”.
I’ve been whistling “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” all morning. I realise now that I’m part of the problem rather than the solution.
Yeah serious, JB. That’s happened so many times, of course. I’m gonna do a little demo today which will hopefully help me determine whether it’s the best song of all time or merely yet another drop in the ocean.
Wow, I almost never get that feeling. If a song survives long enough to get written properly, then I almost certainly know it’s a keeper.
Ed> You’re welcome. I think Kate will love love love those gifts from the wizard.
I have no idea whether I am Ill or just hungry now.
Word up, everyone. I have just reappeared from email deluge hell.
Massive kudos to Ed for being saviour of my wallet this weekend.
Eat something VERY SIMPLE and you may find out.
(I still have this remaining problem where I get hungry, so I eat, and then about an hour or two get this awful vomitty feeling.)
x-post hey TISSP!
My bronchial trouble is a lot better, Dr C, though I’m still coughing a lot. I’m not waking up at night with it anymore.
The car is going up on the ramp this afternoon to see what’s wrong with it. Best case = the oil feed pipe for the turbocharger has come loose, most likely scenario = an oil seal needs to be replaced (an engine-out job) worst case = engine block has a crack in it (which might = my mother in law threw 10,000 pounds down the drain back in february)
OK, what good fun. I’ve just fired off a hilariously pretentious reply—I tried not to go too hard on old Bawb. I was very good and didn’t even quote Bowie once.
I never get to talk about songwriting with anyone, and I miss it!
I know a lot of people who talk or write about music quite seriously (obviously) but they tend to be music *critics* not musicians. So they’re coming at it from a different descriptive angle.
Too many of the musicians I’ve known don’t *like* to talk about their own creative processes—perhaps for fear that if they understand them too closely, they will lose whatever magic makes it happen.
And this is so backwards to the methods that I absorbed (through osmosis obviously, as I never went to classes) in art school.
Hey Tissp! post rock albums from 06/coming out 07 - any good ones?
Check your email too, you may have some pressies.
Archel, since real-ILX is broken and I can’t verify this, can you please tell me if you and Matt did, in fact, go to the Bakelite Museum in Somerset on your honeymoon, or have I made that up/confused you with someone else? We went yesterday and it was several different degrees of awesome.
Things that will happen, next year...
1) I’ll be allowed to wear my contact lenses again (off them for another month, stay with serious eyedrops for another week, eyes not weeping now but still don’t want to look back into the sunn, now they know that the time has etc)..
2) The return to actually writing and recording songs! my god it’s actually going on! I got up the courage to listen to the very WIP version of the first song (blocking guitar, bass, drum track) and it’s not as bad as I remembered, the news that the ‘producer’ has been working on it adding atmos and sdrawcabs drums etc, and I sent back a short list w/ precis of other songs existing only in my febrile.
Oh, we drove past that Bakelite Museum. We said “is there anything that does not have a museum thesedays?”