I spent Saturday afternoon in the pub too. I saw Hot Fuzz yesterday (it was brilliant, see other thread where I dont’t talk about it because I don’t want to spoil it but just wanted to go OMG SO FUNNY LOLZTASTIC). I;m taping Primeval so as I can laugh at how ridiculous it is (i.e. very)
And also, fuck, i’m posting to this shit on Saturday night.
Tomorrow I am going to swim and play squash and look at historical artefacts. Then go to the pub.
I hadn’t seen this before but it’s kinda funny:
LOL! (to both ailsa and mark c)
ok srsly i need some kind of advice or something, bc this keeps happening and i don’t like it and i don’t think anyone else does either. asking now bc i know you’ll all (or most of you will) be here before me in the morning. it is prob highschool level advice but i never learned it then therefore i never learned it at all.
ok so i accidentally pulled this guy at a party the other week. so far so good, nice guy, funny, lefty, smart, cute, lives in london (well, JUST, it’s way out west) the right age for a change (err reading that back it sounds like he’s the right age for me to change him, that’s not what i meant, he doesn’t need changing, what i meant was he’s my age +1 or 2, not like 2x my age like the guys i normally fall for), whatever. then the next day he asked for my number and well, we were all still in the house the party was in all doing breakfast so i wasn’t gonna go NO NO NO. so i didn’t really think he’d call or anything, but he did, so we went out tonight. and i mean he’s really nice, lovely guy, on The Side Of Good etc etc, there isn’t anything *wrong* with him (well he eats meat but i sometimes find if i’m thinking some guy is really hott that i’m like “ah he eats meat whatever la la la i can work around that la la la”, which is how i know who is genuinely hott and who is actually nott), he’s all the above and socially smart (which is more than i am) (he met like 4 or 5 of my friends and was immediately sorted and comfortable talking to them) and all good things like that. but, basically, there’s nothing there. from my side. he’s someone i’d really like in my life but not as a partner. but he thinks otherwise, he was hinting and not-so-hinting and stuff all evening. so i was trying to be like all gentle-like and, you know, nice and not cuntish about it (btw this new arcade fire shit is AWESOME, yes i am a bit drunked but OMG) but i think i’m gonna have to be quite clear about it at some point. so i guess i have 2 qs.
1—how is nice way to do this? i want to be honest, cos he is lovely. if he was some tosser i could just go OK FUCK OFF TO MCDONALDS JUST FUCK OFF. but no. how honest is too honest? any definite DO NOT DO THISes? DO DO THISes?
(addition 1b—is it appallingly bad to genuinely want and try to be friends?)
2—ok i can’t really be arsed with this happening again. but i do not want to be banned from the world of the one night stand bc, like, it’s nice. do i need to like carry a contract around or something?
yes i have had this done to me from the other side obv but it’s always been a bit oblique and situation-specific. or they’ve been cuntish about it (ok only 1 has been cuntish). heeelp.
still thinking.
i don’t think i do anything to like lead them on or anything. it has happened that trying to live by casual and every-directional kindness (which just seems like OBVIOUSLY THIS IS THE WAY TO LIVE MOFO but apparently it’s not that obvious) has resulted in people thinking i was best fwends with them when i wasn’t. but um this isn’t really like that. ARGH.
so i wasn’t gonna go NO NO NO.
Okay, it’s not just me that hears this as Amy Winehouse, yes?
Obviously I have no real advice that you don’t already know, Emsk. To recap:
1—You just have to do this thing. If he “gets you” then it’ll be okay, if he doesn’t then.. it’s going to hurt.
1b—no of course not.
2—cease being awseome.
Morning there. Great weekend. Stayed in and actually got sleep Friday. Then: went to pub, went for food with friends, panicked cos I’d lost my phone, embarrassed Herself by getting the restaurant staff to sing Happy Birthday, found phone again (huzzah!), bed, fry-up breakfast, went to York, geeked out by showing Herself the railway museum, shopping, great food, cinema for Hot Fuzz (loltastic!), bed again.
And now I’ve had to get up and come to work (boo hiss etc)
Hi everyone. My weekend wasn’t as exciting as everyone else’s. Um . . .I bought a new keyboard! Drinks Fri+Sat night, has an impromptu TV Burp marathon with housemates, all good fun.
You know the friend I slept with last weekend and wasn’t sure about what to do? Well, it turns out she’s actually quite into me, and it turns out that I might be maybe sorta kinda quite into her as well. It looks like I’m going up this weekend to see her and I’ll see what happens. It’s really weird, like I’ve forgotten how to do this whole relationship thing. I was always shit at it, but mostly because I didn’t really want it before. But now I kinda do, and . ... bah, I dunno. I’d delete this paragraph cos it’s shit, but I don’t know what to write in it’s place.
And as for you emsk . .. well, Andrew pretty OTM.
1. Yeh, just be plain and nice and good. I mean, you’re a nice good person anyway, this won’t be so hard, and I’m sure he’s a nice good person too, so it’ll be fine. But make sure you really want this, don’t give him the heave ho now and then change your mind later. Not saying you would do that of course, but generally when people who are good, nice guy, funny, lefty, smart, cute, lives in london etc fancy you, then it’s easy to rue the boat you’ve missed after they go away.
1b. Friends are good, especially friendly friends. And nice people know this.
2. Yeh, pretty much stop being awesome. You’re not gonna get much sympathy concerning the “Oh no why do so many cute boys fancy me” dilemma. Just carry on being the lovely you—tbh you’re not doing much wrong at the moment.
2) Produce a contract, preferably on carbon paper at the moment of coitus, that should sort the men from the boys.
Or if not a contract certainly a memoranda of understanding.
I think carbon copies are the key thing. You should then tear it off repeating the mantra, ‘Pink copy for you, yellow for the file and white I keep’
I’m sorry for not offering helpful advice, I feel it has already been given.
Where’s that “Things not to say upon orgasm” thread?
“Pink copy for you, yellow for the file and white I KEEEEEEEEEP!”
Hello everyone.
It is a rubbish morning here by the sea. Gales blowing, rain raining, Mister Monkey away in California. Miserable.
Emsk, having been on the receiving end of the “you know you’re lovely but I don’t fancy you” talk, can I just add that bloke is probably going to be a bit pissed off initially, no matter how well you break it to him. Don’t be too hard on him if he is. He’ll get over it and get back to being nice, in which case you can be friends. Or he won’t, in which case, well, his loss.
What you should do is stop playing with his heart and leading him on and tell him straight (you should have hinted and not-so-hinted that you’re just not that into him during your date—which you shouldn’t have gone on but anyway), the very next time you see him—not “at some point”—you should take him aside and tell him, kindly, to his face that you want to remain freinds but you don’t want it to go any further than that.
How he will react to having the love rug pulled from under him is, well, you’ll just have to wait and see.
Morning! After an all-too brief break, we have students running the halls again. Thankfully, though, it seems to still be fairly quiet at the moment. And I’m off to London Village this weekend for a concert, and then the silly all-night Oscars marathon on Sunday evening (a tradition almost ten years old now, which is a trifle scary).
The receiving end of that talk is pretty shitty, but I agree with the consensus that it’s better to get it out of the way as soon as possible (I had to wait for over a year once to have that talk, and yeah, that did suck, but we got over it eventually).
Where’s that “Things not to say upon orgasm” thread?
“Pink copy for you, yellow for the file and white I KEEEEEEEEEP!”
“IN TRIPLICAAAAAAAAATE”
“Keeping the pink copy” is my new favourite euphemism.
which you shouldn’t have gone on but anyway
I really can’t get annoyed at someone for giving a suitor a chance to make a second impression, nor for being unwilling to spell out “Okay, but this is your last chance, sunshine”. Prepare for best outcome instead of worst, y’know?
“Show the swain his pink copy before proceeding”
thanks guys. i am rubbish and floundering in the dark. i like ed’s advice best but it is possibly unworkable.
don’t give him the heave ho now and then change your mind later
nah, ain’t gonna happen. i suppose he just doesn’t smell right or something.
(you should have hinted and not-so-hinted that you’re just not that into him during your date
yes, done this.
- which you shouldn’t have gone on but anyway)
haha that’s a bit strong! i wanted to make sure, you know.
in other news i got given a digital camera by my lovely friend s yeeha! now i just have to learn to use it. and then i can be a team in the treasure hunt ON MY OWN if none of my friends will play (ok we already have 2 teams but IF WE DIDN’T).
Perhaps a blackberry based business automation system would be more appropriate in this day and age.
bah i wanted to play with my camera and i have to go to work.
My weekend was mostly quiet, but a great party on Saturday with some ILXors and some Livejournal people gave me two neat stories:
I met a friend of a friend, and got talking. At one point RickyT, late of this parish, turns up and goes
“Hey, are you alright?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Okay. It’s just that... they played ‘We Want Fun’”
“Yeah, I heard.”
“And you weren’t dancing!”
“Yeah, no I’m fine. I’ll dance if Carter comes on.”
“Alright.”
And at the end when everyone was setting off (the lady having departed some time before) I was talking to Ricky again and I was saying, y’know, sorry about that, but pretty lady! And said “Yeah, I figured that was probably it, but being here with the song on and you not dancing... it was bloody weird!”
And the other story has to do with her flatmate, Olaf, who apparently is/will be on Quiz Idol, some kind of reality show. Olaf’s by all accounts very into the puzzles, and as I was walking down to the bus stop later with The Lex (who dropped in “Oh yeah, X’s girlfriend, she’s lovely”), he was saying that he has from time to time, back when Olaf was his flatmate, come back from clubbing and seen the gent in a state of, eh, some agitation going “I have a deadline in an hour, I have to finish the Times quiz!”. Which was slightly bemusing until the penny dropped and I realised that it’s not Olaf, it’s Olav, the guy who writes the Times quiz, and who I’ve stared at the name of several times, wondering who could come up with the questions day in day out, picturing some frowning bald bearded swede. I was ridiculously excited to realise that I knew someone (in fact several) who knew him, despite the fact that I already know more than one person in the paper (including, er, The Lex).
How cool. Although, given the way the conversation has been going this morning, you’ll forgive me if I read “state of agitation” in perhaps a different way than you meant.
Yes, it originally read “state of some excitement”, but I thought I could dodge the filth bullet, so to speak.
Well, you thought wrong.
I had a phone call from Mister Monkey about two hours ago to say that our credit cards have been cancelled (they are on the same account). And he’s just got to California, and now has no credit card for two weeks. This is particularly annoying because he doesn’t have his luggage either and was planning on buying some new clothes today.
EEEK, will the credit card company not courier him a new one?
Emsk, regarding your boy conundrum, I would just explain that you want to be friends. And stick to it. There’s no point going through all the soul searching of why it doesn’t work for you two in that way. However, I wouldn’t recommend telling them you want to ‘just be friends’ and then make your moves all over again and decide all over again you don’t like them in that way after all, leaving them feeling hurt, dejected, bitter, angry and a million other things. Because then, just when they thought they were over you and could get back to being the funny, articulate, confident bon viveur they were before, they’ll just be the pathetic, emotional mess they were the first time, only with an added dose of self loathing as to how they could be so stupid again. I’m going speed dating tomorrow. Right now, I could think of better ways to spend my time.
EEEK, will the credit card company not courier him a new one?
They’re not even issuing the new one until Thursday. And they have to post it here, to our house, for security reasons. So I won’t even get it until Monday or Tuesday of next week. Stupid bankers.
Jaysus, accentmonkey. Will the company (The Company is Mother, the Company is Father) be able to help him? Also why why why?
NP, that’s why speed dating doesn’t happen on a Monday morning!
The Company (the giver of all that is good) will help him. I think one of his colleagues is going to drive him to Sears in the morning and buy stuff on his card.
Speed dating always sounded too much like having to write different CVs for each job. I don’t think I’d like it.
Good morning. I’ve spent the weekend IN BED, RESTING, watching Nathan Barley and the Mighty Boosh back to back in a semi-feverish state. And have still not shooken the lurgy. Bah.
Emsk, eep, ow, not a fun situation to be in. The key to one night stands is NOT to exchange phone numbers afterwards. Not ever. If they ask, give them a wrong number or something. That way, only badness lies.
I mean, it’s fair enough to go on a date to establish that in the cold, sober light of day, no, you don’t consider him relationship material. But as hard as it is, it has to be done, giving the polite brushoff. Remember all the advice that people were giving me when I was trying to figure out what to do with the British Librarian? That was quite good, and worked with the desired outcome. (Then again, we did not sleep together.)
OK, now I’m going to return to my semi-feverish state and mumble occasionally about Julian Barratt swanning about a Morrocan tent dressed only in a loincloth and chains. I had to rewind the video three times to make sure it actually happened and I was not just hallucinating due to fever. Had I not been lying down, I would have fallen off the sofa.
x-x-x-post argh! Credit card cancelling, blargh! Did they say why they did it?
I’ve had credit cards cancelled on me without my asking twice in my life—the first time when I was stranded in Detroit due to fuckwittage on the part of travelling companion. In the end, I called the card company and even though they were not able to get a card out to me, they did give me the number of the new card, so I was able to book a flight home.
The second time, it was for “abnormal use patterns”—yes, of course my use patterns suddenly got really abnormal, I was stuck in Newark airport over 9/11 and I was trying desperately to ring my mum on the card, book a hotel or a ride out of there or anything. None of which I could do. Fuckwits—sometimes an abnormal activity spurt reveals that there has been a theft, sometimes it reveals that the person is IN AN EMERGENCY.
Credit card companies can fuck right off.
Most people otm with advice for emsk, so I’m just going to concur with the best stuff and take credit for it all later.
I am so slow in waking up this morning. I blame the lack of coffee in the house (I had to go out and buy ‘ritazza’).
Nightmare gig on Friday, almost comically full of misfortune; I’m actually glad none of you all could make it to this one!
Oh no, Gooblar, what went wrong?
Me and the Texan and the mad Welsh contingent drank ourselves nearly into a coma on Strawberry margaritas and burritos. Oh, and the Texan’s other half is going to join our Hawkwind tribute band. Awesome.
Because I travel a lot I have one of the expensive annual fee cards where they will replace within 24 hours anywhere in the world. Luckily I haven’t had to test this yet. I don’t think there is anything that can be considered abnormal usage any more.
One of my credit cards was used to open an ‘account’ on something called “Yahoo Money”, with 50p as an ‘opening’ credit.
The Credit Card snagged this as ‘suspicious’ and rang me about it.
Result: Cancelled/reissued card, and no money nicked.
Good old credit card company.
Not ever. If they ask, give them a wrong number or something. That way, only badness lies.
Even just on practical grounds, this is possibly not a great idea if they’re a friend of a friend rather than just someone you met at a gig.
Friday
-Ominous portent: soundman shows up an hour late, already stroppy.
-Snare stand, which promoter said venue had, is not at venue. Soundman says we’ll just use upside-down stool. (Actually works, but, you know..)
-‘Orrible place, with rubbish bands on before us, and bad sound in the room.
-Sound terrible from the start of our set; Jim’s microphone off for first song, for which he sings, like a lot (only fixed by guy from other band—the soundman didn’t seem to notice!).
-In the third song, Richie puts his stick right through the snare! It’s another drummer’s snare, and it was totally on its last legs, almost transparent. There are no other snares in the building. Richie turns the snare over. Breaks that side on next song. Must play without snare for last 35 minutes of set.
-The sound was rubbish throughout; we couldn’t hear ourselves, making it very difficult to play well. And we couldn’t really tell what was wrong (and tell the soundman what to change)—it was just shitty overall..
-Soldiered through somehow and finished our set (I’m quite proud of us, actually). Only to find that the guy at the door has left (for Denmark, apparently) before our set was over, so no payment for us!
As Kate says, sometimes abnormal usage is normal. Rather than cancelling the transaction and having the customer phone the company, the company should phone the customer and say “hi, someone’s using your card in Mountain View. Are you in Mountain View?”
Or, in Kate’s case, someone should have gone “hmm, there appears to be a huge meltdown going on in New York. Expect strange usage patterns.”
In our case, normal usage goes like this: book flights to a place, then, several months later, fly to the place and spend loads of money. I would give a lot for a credit card that, when you booked flights using it, actually updated your profile to remember that you are away on those dates. It would save hassle.
I’ve never done it, mind you.
But I’ve never had a one night stand ring me back, even if they did ask for my number. The only one I did make contact with after was the one that we had to exchange phone numbers because he lost his phone in my room and he had to ring it from my phone. Still went nowhere, I discovered I hated his band.
ACtually, wait, there’s one that should have STAYED a one night stand but we were stupid enough to continue it. I also hated his band.
My cousin just got engaged over the weekend. I’ve never met his fiancee. It’s just weird how the men in my family get married, but the women don’t. Or maybe not so weird reading that above. My brother actually called me to discuss it. (!!!) I may have to go to Tronno for the wedding. But that means I can hang out with Mr. and Mrs. Noodles and the Canadian DDBs. Yeah.
x-posts
‘Tronna’, surely?
OMG, Gooblar, that sounds like the gig from hell. Though it is really good that you managed to soldier on and not let it rattle you.
Rather than cancelling the transaction and having the customer phone the company, the company should phone the customer and say “hi, someone’s using your card in Mountain View. Are you in Mountain View?”
Well, this kind of depends on the idea that they might actually ring your mobile—because otherwise they’re jsut going to get yer ansaphone. Also it depends on having a mobile—in both those circumstances, I did not. (Though in the former, I rang them and gave them a stable number at my sisX0r’s house.)
I think I might just zone out for most of today. What is wrong with me?
You’ve been infected with Watercooler-itis. I can’t work. I’m in a daze, still ill and every time I try to sit down and concentrate, I get the mental image of Julian Barratt in loincloth and chains floating through my mind and I start to giggle and blush uncontrollably.
Must be. I think I’m regressing back into some primordial part of the evolutionary chain, before they invented graduate school, perhaps.
I thought one of those fizzy vitamin c in water things would help, but then I nearly spilled all of it and came very close to falling on the floor in a ridiculous clouseau-esque fashion.
This is walking, oh, 10 steps from the kitchen to my desk.
Argh, maybe I should take some vitamin C, but I’ve got pills, not fizzy drink.
I have no energy because I’ve been ill for so long, I get winded walking up stairs. It’s pathetic. I had to have a ten minute lie down after going to the shops.
i was like that last week with being ill. Now I’m back to my old strong self I realise that I’m behind on all my work and I’m so not gonna get a bonus this quarter. Bloody germs.
Kate, how was the rest of the Boosh for you?
OK I just banged my head against the door (by accident). I was, oh, never mind. I should probably have another coffee.
Gooblar, shit buzz about the gig, man. Still, it’ll be a good story to tell in an interview.
I still haven’t finished Season Two, Ed but I am still liking it very much! Problem is, I keep getting distracted from Teh Funnies and learning about COMEDY by Julian Barratt’s hottness. (especially as in Season two he seems to be in a loincloth or hawaiian shorts or a TWEED UTILITY SUIT or some other outfit off hotttness every thirty seconds, most distracting.) Maybe I can only find something funny if the person being funny is HOTT. (See also Black Books.)
It is still off the wall enough, and totally unexpected enough to find funny. The element of surprise—but then again, these things are still funny the second time through. Or more. (I must admit, I’ve seen the Spirit of Jazz episode about half a dozen times now, and it never stops being funny.)
It was interesting to compare and contrast with Nathan Barley, which, even thought it’s the same people, is much more vicious in its humour. Even though The Mighty Boosh is often quite mocking and makes fools of its protagonists, there’s still a sense of affection, and even the “bad” characters are somehow endearing.
The whole point of Barley was that *no one* was sympathetic. And it had a kind of nastiness that made for uncomfortable viewing. But it was funnier the second time through, for understanding that in advance, and knowing that it was unrelenting vileness.
I suppose that says something about me, not that I’m Mrs. Huggles from Cuddlstein mountain or anything—but I prefer a gentler kind of humour.
Kate are we going to do stuff on wednesday. I have listened and played along to the rough cuts, I still don’t really know what you want from me but I’d like to have a go?
Anyone up for pancakes and hot fuzz tomorrow? I’ll do pancakes at mine then we catch the 8:45 show at the barbican?
I saw hot fuzz on Saturday! It was GRATE!
Not Wednesday! Friday, Ed! Or, err, the Tuesday after that. Whatever is cool, drones, simple is good. It’s texture more than anything else! I’m getting together with Sande tomorrow to work out harmonies so unfortunately no pancakes or films.
Week today, I guess?
Monday 26th? oh wait, I can do this Wednesday as I’m not doing anything else, I thought you might want to do a proper rehearsal. But it might be good to play just me and you, and then make Tuesday 27th the dress rehearsal with all of us.
OK, sounds good. let’s do this Wednesday then.
Sounds good.
Though dagnabbit, that was the day I was going to finish watching Boosh.
Ah ha ha ha this is not the day I want to be up to my eyeballs in work...
Happy Birthday, Suzy!
Happy Birthday!
Happy birthday, ma’am!
HBSC!
My lunch—can you tell I work in London’s trendy Soho?
Giant couscous with wheatberries and roasted butternut squash; Mozzarella bocconcini with sun-ripened tomatoes; blueberries
Goobs—balding men and banging heads is a bad combination—I feel for you :(
yes, happy birthday, suzy!
OH NOES, GIANT COUSCOUS!!!
Happy Birthday!
Anyone fancy this new bike?
Oh no, giant coucous, I am disturbed.
What on earth *are* wheatberries, anyway? Wheat is not a berry, it is a grain. But I see them in posh health foods in Sainsburys and wonder what the heck they are.
Danke schön!
Wheatberries are the actual wheat grain, rehydrated, looking like whole tabbouleh bits.
OK so Friday was all about telling a gallerist he could not have copy approval for an article about his artists, not even if magazine X were giving him this, we’re not magazine X. Of course I did have other work to do and I shouted at him because he was ringing me about it every 90 minutes in the mistaken belief that somehow on the 9th attempt I would suddenly see the virtue of what he wanted. So not gonna happen.
HB, Suzy, I hope you have a good one.
G00blar, that sounds like a shit time for all, my comiserations.
I want to watch region 1 DVDs on my computer (a win xp PC) what do I do, anyone? (here is what I want to buy, and that’s only the start of it)
I want Colleen Moore films:
An unusually high number appear to have survived. “Orchids and Ermine” in particular sounds great. (i pity the poor soul who gets a taste for Theda Bara movies, they’re almost all lost) but almost nothing’s available on DVD, graargh.
VLC, I think should do it.
The problem is, now whenever you start talking about your job, Suzy, I just see the Weekend on Sunday pop into my head. ;-)
Dammit, I want to go back and re-read that thread. ILX is great like a library of pop cultural opinion that way. That after you’ve seen something again, and digested it, you can go back and review the commentary that was happening at the time.
Norman what do you think of that link I posted? It’s not gonna take off and save the bike business is it?
The guy has got to be taking the piss, Kerr.
OK, Ed—S has now moved the date of her rehearsal, so I am free tomorrow for pancakes. I can bring my oilcan of maple syrup and we can all eat it up. Before lent.
It’s 1:30pm. Why do I feel like it’s 8:30am?? i.e., what is WRONG with me???
I d/led VCL, I’ll try it out on the 2 home xp box0r tonight, thanks G.
OK, great.
Can we watch the last two episodes of teh Boosh, as well, please?
Though I will be good and not make you watch all of the “making of” bits and bobs so I can drool over Julian Barratt’s beard. I promise.
bah accentmonkey that SUCKS. thought credit cards were meant to make life easier? god i never want one.
The key to one night stands is NOT to exchange phone numbers afterwards. Not ever. If they ask, give them a wrong number or something.
yeah, it wasn’t really possible with a room full of people both of us knew. i would just have looked like a twat.
g00blar, what was the venue and who was the promoter? i want to never do anything with them.
haha also, a cute thing happened on the way to the lock tavern last night (where i saw ADELE omg she was marvellous, fabulous voice, myspace.com/adelelondon). i was riding up clarence road (kind of semi-sketchy area) and this grizzled old dude in a big hat and coat started yelling something at me. i couldn’t really understand him so didn’t pay any attention, but he kept yelling and i realised he was saying “ring your bell! RING YOUR BELL!” so i did and he went “YYYEEEEAAAAAHH!” sweet...
Couldn’t you just shrug cutely and say something like “oh, get it off one of our friends...” or would that have been too obvious a shrug-off?
(Or would your friends have then given him yr number anyway?)
yeah, they would have given him the number AND then i would not have known who it was when the phone rang. also that would be weird!
happy birthday suzy!
happy birthday suzy!
Emsk, you in for tomorrow?
i don’t know, i am going to see children of men by myself. can i work myself from pancake hilarity to the requisite solemnity on a ride from your house to the prince charles? probably, yes. ok, in.
Please caption this picture:
“Admit it, your buffet restaurant is the front for a SECRET MIND CONTROL MARTIAL ARTS cult!”
Ha ha ha!
Actually, I think I have figured out where that particular meme came from—my ex boyfriend, the sound artist one. His best friend at the time was working for Fortean Times. I should never have believed a WORD that came out of either of their mouths.
Though they often were OTM about creepy underground tunnels and Masonic symbolism and all.
Emsk, here, and these guys. Never again.
Why do I know UpAllNight? Are they the people that screwed over the K1$$ing T1me?
hm, i seem to have heard of them too. hm.
for lent i would like to give up living on £5 a day.
Photo caption:
“I can’t hear you. I’ve lost my ear trumpet.”
They also did our show at the wilmington, which wasn’t the pleasantest time either. xxpost
Btw anyone seen tissp around?
HI DERE
TISSP! How is your beard?
hairy!
Actually, not as long as it was, I trimmed it this morning.
Sorry, that was a bit banal really
So, how’s things?