Saturday, August 19, 2006

I'm living in a bloody zoo

There's a tarantula behind the microwave, a mouse in my wall, and an ambigous lizard/reptile/newt/i have no fucking clue what it is on the kitchen floor. There was a frog in the toilet, but he's gone now. Oh, help.

I didn't tackle the spider thing because I could see his mandibles from six feet away, I am not kidding. I can't get the mouse in my bedroom wall because, well, he's in the wall and I am not intangible. I got the newty thing though, he was cute. Not meant to be on the kitchen floor though, I almost stood on him. Although I would have been distressed about this, I bet I wouldn't have been as upset as him. I named him Agememnon.

Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

^ Just a normal day in my house, everybody.

Friday, August 18, 2006

Big Brother. Meow

If Nikki wins Big Brother, I might have to kill myself in protest.

If I see Jenny (I'm so average, it hurts)'s face again, I might stab myself in the neck with a ballpoint pen until I lose consciousness and pass out into blissful dreamworld where no one has hoop earrings and brown is not the only colour in existence.

If I see Glyn's slack jaw and perpetually confused expression one more time, I'm going to gleefully zap his face with a cattle prod just because I want to see it move.

If I see Leah's two airbags that she calls breasts one ore time, I'm going to embed a hatchet in each of them, not that she'll feel any pain. I actually have a hatchet, so I'm only half bluffing.

But most of all, if I hear Nikki's whine, if I see her wide eyed, permanent 'I'm about to burst into a temper tantrum the size of Gibraltar' expression one more time, then I'm going to kill you all, and then myself.

If I see Aisleyne's diagonal eyebrows ever again, I'm going to shove her head in a vice, take a really big black marker, and draw her eyebrows on HORIZONTALLY which is the way they're SUPPOSED TO BE. Also, Aisleyne has the stupidest spelt name ever. It looks like it's prounounced "Ayeslyne" which, says I, it should be. But noo, it's prounounced " Ashleene" which sounds like a tellytubby reject or a chimney brush to me, I'm not sure which yet.

I was momentarily annoyed at Pete, because he's so much prettier than I am. But I got over it, and now think he's a fantastic guy. Not even his sporadic and violent exclaimations of "AchooWANKers!" "CHOOOweeeeaaaayyyy!!" or "AchCHHA!" can disguise the fact that, he's a lovely guy. What the frack he's doing with Nikki, I do not know. Nor do I want to know. Oh dear god...get a room, please, for the love of all that is holy, get a room. We don't want to see that.

I have decided that they all resemble cartoon characters.

Nikki - Angelica from the Rugrats
Pete - The Joker
Aisleey - ashlee - ash - ash ash - oh whatthefuckever - Miss Piggy
Glyn - Cletus the slack jawed yokel

They also lost the plot somewhat with the most recent Big Brother. As far as I can tell, you're meant to put a number of people in there, and watch them all filter out one by one. You do not suddenly decide to put more people in there halfway through and make us all cry because we thought it would be over soon but now it's going to last for even more weeks. It's meant to be a reality TV show, not a bloody pay as you go mobile phone.

Death to Big Brother, and so on and so forth.

Tuesday, August 08, 2006

If you made friends with me at Uni, start being afraid now

Edit: Updated, added three more people

Firstly, if you ever made friends with me at Uni, start being afraid now.

I have a friend, her name is Sophie. And occasionally, Soapy. She writes humourous descriptions of her friends, summerising them nicely in one paragraph. Here are my attempts to do the same. If you see your name on this list, you should be scared. I am attempting to summerise some of the people I have met at my first year of University.

If your entry is shorter than anyone else's, don't be offended. It's not that I have less to say about you, it in fact means that you're just not quite as much of a freak as certain other people. This is a good thing. (or perhaps I just left stuff out for your own good. Bwa ha hah and so on and so forth)

And in no particular order:

Colin - Colin has extraordinarily large eyebrows, which he uses to accentuate his perpetually sardonic yet politely attentive facial expression. Colin is also highly well spoken, and it would not be out of character for him to say things like "Tally ho!" "Pip pip!" "Wotcher!" and "It's for impressing the wimmenfolk, dontcha know." Sadly, it is infectious, and we have spent many an hou - well, minute, verbally outposhing each other. Colin thinks that he is a better nethead than me, but he is wrong. Colin also has a pet lesbian, but it's not me. Colin likes catsuits. Colin wants me to wear a catsuit, very very much. I don't think that me wearing a catsuit is a good idea. Colin likes to make at least six references as to just how how he would like to see me in a catsuit every day, and considers anything less a serious and deep personal failure. This leads me to believe that Colin in fact thinks that me wearing catsuit is a good idea. Colin is almost always surrounded by women, I want to know how he does that. Colin also thinks that footless tights are good and sexy, whereas I just think they look like proper tights that got chewed by a puppy.

Aaron - Aaron is very nice. Aaron wooed me by copying me dvds, and then teaching me Psychology 102 because I knew none of it. Aaron has two guns. These guns can be located somewhere between his elbow and shoulder. He likes to kiss them. One of them is called Pinky. Pinky was named by me. I can't remember what the other one is called, but I hope it can forgive me. Aaron is going to dress up as a werewolf on halloween, just for me. Aaron is an honourary lesbian, but he's still not as good a lesbian as me. If you tell him that you like the American remakes of Japanese films better, he will probably go a funny colour and start shouting. Aaron is also often surrounded by women, but he is often surrounded by men, too, so it balances out in a big profound gender karmical...thingie. Aaron is my friend. Aaron is also a stud. The two are unconnected.

Fiona - Fiona has Fluffy hair. It's so Fluffy in fact, that it merits it's own capital letter. She is also eccentric. But her hair is disarming, so it's okay.

Luke - Luke is as short as I am. He is more distressed about this fact than me. Luke is Joey from Friends younger brother, and I have never heard the adjective 'hot girl' used as an acceptable subsitute for a name so many times in my life. Luke likes cookies. I have seen Luke almost completely naked. Luke has seen me in my pjamas, but has never seen me almost naked. Luke has picked me up and almost broken my arm before, but I've hit him in the ankles with a stick and thrown his clothes at his head, so it's okay. I am going to kill Luke, but he doesn't know this yet. Luke likes tomato ketchup and cheese. We all call Luke 'Kiwi-Penis', but i'm not entirely sure why.

Debbie - Debbie will probably never read this. We are all very scared of Debbie. But Debbie is very scared of daddy long legs, and needs me to rescue her from them. Debbie is every inch an English student. Debbie likes to say meeep a lot. I like it when she says meeep, it makes me smile.

The Greeks - DIE

James - James likes cars. James likes cars, and he likes cars. James gave me an electric beaver. This is not actually as filthy as it sounds. James doesn't listen to any music that's not a soundtrack, although he thinks that this is not true. James and me watched the dvd of Gladiator once, but it was in French. It took us half an hour to notice this. James has a car that breathes like a monster and frightens children. James falls asleep when he drinks Red Bull. James is very strong and has lots of veins popping in his arms, and he lets me poke them.

Ben - Ben does not let me poke the veins in his arms. Ben is squeamish as a very squeamish girl. Ben is very well spoken, which is why it's so funny when he does ghetto speak. Ben is very lovely, and is also about ten feet tall. Ben likes Kinder Eggs.

Rachel - Rachel usually makes all the surrounding males turn their head when she walks past. I can understand why. She also coined the term 'cofftea' which is a very important term in my life now. Rachel talks French at us a lot, and although we have no idea what she's saying, we all agree that she sounds very sexy. Rachel would look better than me in a catsuit, but I don't know if Colin knows that. Rachel is very cool. Rachel has the same shoes as me. I'd like to think that the two are connected.

Jen - Jen has the coolest hair at Uni. It is spikey and black, and it sometimes has blonde stripes in it. Sometimes it doesn't.

Beccy - Beccy is charming. Beccy is also not from Birmingham.

Lou - Lou hiccups when she drinks cider, and doesn't stop hiccuping until further notice. Lou also has a funny accent, but I don't think this counts, because I reckon she thinks that my accent is funny too.

Benny - Benny has a pink and black glove. Benny also looks very sexy as a pirate, and could give Jack Sparrow a run for his rum. Benny understands computers, and regularly puts complicated techy terms into a language that I can understand. Benny is very funny, and makes me laugh. Benny gave me signed a chip fork. Benny also tried to steal a traffic cone, but it didn't work out. Benny knows what retrojaffa is, but I'm not sure if anyone else does.

Caddy - Caddy looks American, but I'm not completely sure why. Caddy likes beer. Caddy is not Caddy's real name. Caddy is also very funny and makes me laugh. The very first sentence Caddy said to me involved monkeys and juggling, not necessarily in that order. Caddy was wrong, there was not one lesbian the seminar room, there were two. It's a good job he didn't know this, otherwise he would have been even more nervous than he already was and that would not have been good now would it.

Chris - Chris is cool, in a tall dark and menacing way. Chris actually knows who Nightwish are. I once accidentally insulted Chris by saying that I liked his long greasy hair look, upon which he informed me that he had just washed it. For this I am eternally apologetic. Chris is usually very calm and sedate, until The Prodigy comes on, then he goes apeshit and starts moving his arms. Chris also has big guns (though not as big as Aaron's guns), and he also likes to kiss them. (Aaron did not tell me to say that Chris's guns are not as big as his. No he didn't.)

Fran - Fran is very lovely but cannot catch.

I think I forgot someone. Or someone. I forgot something. Hmm.

Eggs and merry adventures

I like to think that I am a reasonably intelligent person. No genius, oho no, but not dense by any stretch of the imagination.

I also like to think I am not too bad with my hands. I can draw, I can sculpt to a degree, I can paint, I can even sew, if sewing involves multiple stab wounds and being rushed to hospital while slipping about in pools of one's own blood.

So therefore, I'd like to think that cooking breakfast at two in the morning might be a task that was not beyond me. Alas, I overestimate myself. I do occasionally wonder if I need adult supervision just to function.

I would like to think that not having access to a kitchen as such for an entire academic year has deadened my skills somewhat. Yes, that's what I'm telling myself. It all began with a simple yet powerful twinge of nostalgia, a desire to make fried eggs the way my Dad used to. With soldiers. You don't have soldiers with boiled eggs, piffle, you have them with fried eggs. Don't argue: I'm Irish.

Overlooking a few burned fingers from an overenthusiastic toaster, the soldiers were created without severe bodily injury. The fried eggs may have been more of a challenge. I cracked the first egg with a knife, opened it up and poured it into the frying pan, managing to split the yolk entirely, making it complete rubbish. Pooh, it happens, I haven't done it for a while. It's easy to split the yolk. Unless you're making scrambled eggs, where you actually have to shortly split the yolk with a fork, in which case it never splits. But anyway.

Being incredibly fussy, I disposed of the first attempt and went to try it again, still foolishly comfident in my abilities. I've done this many times before, there's no challenge involved. I cracked the egg with a knife again, and opened it up over the pan.

The yolk split again. Oh curse you vile and evil and shady deity of your choice, what the crap. As the yolk and the white mixed together merrily while I glared at it, I had a thought. Poached eggs. I like poached eggs. Poached eggs are nice too. Poached eggs may look like utter shit that was rolled around the frying pan by a particularly inept two year old with only half an arm, but they still taste the same. So I salvaged the remains of the dead fried egg, into a poached egg. Viola. I'm not completely stupid, after all. I shifted the poached egg out of the frying pan and onto a plate, and took one more egg.

Oho, I thought. Perhaps it was because I was splitting the egg with a knife that it was all going wrong. Well, lets be manly and bash it on the side of the pan.

After successfully getting egg white on the hob (sorry Mum!) I opened the egg up over the frying pan again. Naturally, it was split.

At this point I was almost hopping about on one foot (it made sense at the time) in a rage, cursing like the Irishwoman I am, with a newfound urge to throw the remainder of the eggs out of the window. While the beautiful thought of propelling unfertilised fowl ovums at high velocity through holes in the wall struggled to take over me, I overcame it eventually.

After pacifying myself by coming to the conclusion that there was something really, really wrong with the eggs, and that I had in fact bought eggs with readily split yolks, I gave up and made another poached egg.

That will not do at all. Poached eggs don't really go with soldiers.

Fortunately, my dear Mother - like any sensible person - is fast asleep at two in the morning, and is therefore unable to come into the kitchen and box my ears because of the mess I've made. I also have ample time to clean up.

I have no idea how my Father made them so perfectly and neatly. Not at all. Apparantly, it's not a genetic thing.

Saturday, August 05, 2006

Evanescence's New Single

Amy Lee and wolves. Amy Lee, singing, with wolves involved. Mmmm.

I've died and gone to heaven, you won't see me for a little while.

I give it two hours before the video gets deleted.

Tuesday, August 01, 2006

The funniest thing I've seen all month

"In one scene the actor playing Strang is required to simulate sexual ecstasy while riding a horse naked. But Davies said nudity was not the focus of the play."

The Harry Potter (non) actor pretending to be aroused while clinging desparately to half a tonne of speeding equine.

Does anyone find this mental image cripplingly hilarious enough to be near fall over? I do.

Everyone knows the Harry Potter boy is the worst actor to ever disgrace our screens, in the entire history of crap actors. So naturally, the smart thing to do is to put him in the starring role in a well known play, stick him on top of a speeding horse, and tell him to moan.


This should be excellent.