bunnyblog

1. Cool under fire;
2. Didn’t spend much;
3. Got to see people;
4. Got to see a person;
5. Fleetwood Mac - Little Lies. CHRIST it’s been a long time since I’ve heard this.

Still, fuck’s sake.

FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK

Went to bed at 9pm last night (yay no alcohol!) after a couple of tasty little buggers.

Weird dreams:

Went to a house party full of women, ended up full of self-loathing and hating my bro for his usual shit. tantalisingly close to lux at one point. Segue to Sandgate Poundstretcher, now a multi-floor miniatures shop. I leave for a minute, go down to where fie stays, some guy’s looking for Cunningham (no relation to either, though my dad seems to think it’s us). Has a googly eye. I finally find the door (keep walking past it for whatever reason) but the guy’s disappeared. Back to Poundies, see a couple of Illuminati-like guys asking questions at the door. Duck in and go upstairs, the place has been emptied. Lillie is there, as is Phil Gallie (!) who gives us the combination to a briefcase which supposedly contains two grand’s worth of minis. A cleaner nearly eats the sweety I have written the combination on. (For posterity I think it was 18857.) I wake up without having found the briefcase.

Benn didn’t come round with the charger. For fuck’s sake.

Title is because I woke up with an urge to listen to Army by the Ben Folds Five. Yeah, not the same album, but some things were born to be titles, y’know.

Got the closure. Oh well.

I’ve rediscovered the Pornorphans. Again. Oh my holy Christ how good was the blooming metal scene in 2000? What the fuck happened?

So I’ve got an interview with Sun tomorrow at 1.40 in Linlithgow. And of course the agency sent it to my btopenworld address, which left me screaming about Hotmail losing it and going mental at everybody.

Karina phoned me. Accidentally, admittedly, but got her number now. I really should text her back.

We won the Millers pub quiz. Another one bites the dust. I think we won by about eight points in the end too. Jayjay stole the money (forty bucks!) but I’ll reclaim it from her hide at some point.

I had ace curry.

(Editing posts might not be very ethical, but I’m not leaving some stupid rant up here forever.)

The new:

• Stop pursuing loose women. This doesn’t mean stop associating yourself with them, but we’re talking no sympathy here. Alfie. I think the key target of this one is going to be Murray, assuming that ever happens.

The usual:

• Expect nothing;
• Don’t talk when you don’t need to;
• Whatever you do, don’t tell anyone.

So that’s over then. Funny how things work out conveniently.

Janine though. What the fuck would you say if Janine came up to you and said “Do you know anyone who would want to hump me”? Fucking idiot.

Identical twins?! This is really getting silly, now.

These five names account for 70% of all my woes. I’m tied to them.

Oddly, neither of the Big Two names feature on that list.

Only 5% of my life woes don’t involve women. Shocking.

Well, that was eventful.

Hogmanay I finished work, found that everyone had fucked off to the pub without so much as a look-in, and went home (not in the best of moods). In Flatypants by 7.10, on third drink by 7.30. Spoke to Mel and Emma, saw Kerry and Caroline just as I was leaving (Caroline had that wide-eyed look of fancyness, so it was maybe a shame I left).

Went into West Kirk, met Jayjay’s new man and Pete (a girl called Laura. McLeod named her Pete. No, I don’t know either) and a cute girl whose name I can’t remember. I think people were trying to set me up with said cute girl for most of the night; either that or she fancied me and I fucked up by being cautious.

Don’t remember the bells. Stella.

Think I kissed one of the girls on the lips when we left. Can’t remember which one. [edit: yes I can.] Can’t remember much, basically.

Next night, Flanagans with bro. Met Jill. She’s put on some weight, was just as irritatingly pathetic as usual and had friends with her who didn’t say a word in two hours. Fuck ‘em.

2nd, started drinking at 3pm. Stopped, had a chinky (chopsticks is back! woo!) and had a lickle snooze. Got back up, had some more beer (still no Stella) and some irish stuff, went into town, had a Stella shoved down my throat and puked for the first time in at least six months outside Smiths. Went and saw Westwood, met Fraser’s sister, pulled one of her and Steph’s friends. For about a minute, before she went weird. Bah. Still a pull, mojo still working.

Got up today, scooshed a good mouthful of whipped cream down my throat, only to find it was rum-enhanced. Eeeee. Finally got up here and spent the entire night on IRC and talking to ellie about her depression. The girl doesn’t deserve to be depressed, despite any feelings I’ve got. But I can’t do anything about it. Frustration is a bitch.

I’m calm and easy. Feeling good about this year. Just got some debt control to get on with.