Crooning on my STEREO: You're gonna make me lonesome by MADELEINE PEYROUX
BEHOLD! Lyn may have vanished from the blog-o-sphere for about a week or so... but FEAR NOT..... she has blissfully embarked on a new phase of her life.....
SHE IS NO LONGER A FRIGGIN STUDENT!!!!!!!!!
So that makes me officially 'unemployed.' But fuck it, I don't EVER have to endure midnight slogs, bloody deadlines, reading lame journals, making a pile of sith in my room...... FUCK EM ALL!!!!!!!!!
AS YOU CAN SEE... I AM BLOODY LOVING THIS!!!!!!!
The next few weeks is going to be mayhem, so I am just going to show you all some LOVE:
- I have broken a personal record by handing in 17000 words THREE days ahead of SCHEDULE. Fuccckkkkk!!!
- For the past 1.5 weeks, my total sleeping hours was 30 hours. And that is certainly NOT going to increase within the next few days.
- Lovely EYERIS is in town and I dragged him to HIGHBURY this morning. He REFUSED to have his photograph taken with EMIRATES STADIUM although he was evidently quite IMPRESSED by it... MUAHAHA! (he's a BENITEZ supporter btw)
- The total amount of Alcohol intake within this week: 30 litres to date. (Add an extra ten litres when I visit KRACKERin Belgium next weekend.
- I will be selling my amazing ALTEC LANSING speakers+subwoofer. Breaks my heart to do so but it is virtually impossible to lug it home. Who wants to inherit it for 50 quid??
- A week from now, I will be on board for my mad one-month holiday to ESPANA!!!!!! And looking forward to catch some REAL sun with Caracolacolacola!!!!!!
- Final work as a FILM EXTRA on MONDAY. This time I will be stuck in BRIXTON shooting the whole day, and that is such a prestigious way to say goodbye to my 6 month film career in London..
- Tuesday will my FINAL job as a miserable waitress!! I don't EVER have to break my arms lugging around champagne bottles to feed drunken old men in posh art galleries. NO MORE!!! NO MORE!!!
- I will be moving out of my gorgeous London flat next Friday: I guess I am going to miss it despite the ridiculous rent and the lightbulb consumption that costs 7 quid each.
- Off to CANTERBURY this weekend for a dose of English Nostalgia. Thank you, mi hermana.
- To all my Girlfriends, boyfriends and gayfriends out there, NEXT WEEK WILL BE YOUR LAST CHANCE TO SEE ME IN LONDON!!
(I know my appointment list is fully booked at the mo, but there's always a waiting list.. MUAHAHA..or come and see me in spain if you're DYING to...)
--------------------------------------
To all my readers, thanks so much for constantly dropping by my site despite my lack of updates (translate=LAZINESS)... The next few weeks will see fewer posts but I will try and get online as much as I can.
Meanwhile you can all go and envy my unemployed status....LOVE YOU ALL!
Showing posts with label London. Show all posts
Showing posts with label London. Show all posts
Friday, September 16, 2005
Friday, September 09, 2005
FATkin's DIET
Crooning on my STEREO: You're Beautiful by JAMES BLUNT
Today I bring you a new REVOLUTIONARY self-prescribed diet:
LYN'S FATKINS DIET
For the aspiring celebrity who dreams endlessly of expanding her waistline, increasing her dress size and oozing her sex appeal, the FATKINS DIET is just what you need.
To achieve that gorgeous body you've always dreamed of, just follow this revolutionary diet plan for 3 days:
MORNING:
1) 150grams of Walkers Thai Sweet Chilli Potato Crisps
2) Hot chocolate with full cream milk.
3) 3 scrambled eggs
4) 1 tablespoon of mayonaise straight from the jar.
AFTERNOON:
1) 1 foot long toasted Subway Meatball Marinara Sandwich- ask for extra MEAT.
2) 2 cans of DIET COKE
3) 2 packets of 50g Walkers Sour Cream Chips
MID AFTERNOON:
1) Your choice of 1 McDonald's Sandwich- the more OIL the merrier.
2) 1 Large McDs Fries drenched in BBQ sauce
EVENING:
1) 4 Krispy Kreme Original Glazed Donuts
2) 1 Can of Lemonade Soda
3) 2 portions of Laughing Cow Cheese
LATE EVENING:
1) 1 Large portion of cheap Lamb Doner Kebab drowned in Mayonaise
2) 1 Tomato Juice
3) 1 gigantic slice of pita bread
BEFORE BEDTIME:
1) 1 Imodium Indigestion Tablet.
RESULTS GUARANTEED IN THREE DAYS.
Disclaimer: ynglyn.blogspot.com will not be held responsible over any loss of lives, regurgitation, constipation or psychological trauma caused while attempting this diet.
Today I bring you a new REVOLUTIONARY self-prescribed diet:
LYN'S FATKINS DIET
For the aspiring celebrity who dreams endlessly of expanding her waistline, increasing her dress size and oozing her sex appeal, the FATKINS DIET is just what you need.
To achieve that gorgeous body you've always dreamed of, just follow this revolutionary diet plan for 3 days:
MORNING:
1) 150grams of Walkers Thai Sweet Chilli Potato Crisps
2) Hot chocolate with full cream milk.
3) 3 scrambled eggs
4) 1 tablespoon of mayonaise straight from the jar.
AFTERNOON:
1) 1 foot long toasted Subway Meatball Marinara Sandwich- ask for extra MEAT.
2) 2 cans of DIET COKE
3) 2 packets of 50g Walkers Sour Cream Chips
MID AFTERNOON:
1) Your choice of 1 McDonald's Sandwich- the more OIL the merrier.
2) 1 Large McDs Fries drenched in BBQ sauce
EVENING:
1) 4 Krispy Kreme Original Glazed Donuts
2) 1 Can of Lemonade Soda
3) 2 portions of Laughing Cow Cheese
LATE EVENING:
1) 1 Large portion of cheap Lamb Doner Kebab drowned in Mayonaise
2) 1 Tomato Juice
3) 1 gigantic slice of pita bread
BEFORE BEDTIME:
1) 1 Imodium Indigestion Tablet.
RESULTS GUARANTEED IN THREE DAYS.
Disclaimer: ynglyn.blogspot.com will not be held responsible over any loss of lives, regurgitation, constipation or psychological trauma caused while attempting this diet.
Saturday, September 03, 2005
KARAOKE
Crooning on my STEREO: Love Me Right by ANGEL CITY
I was inspired by Crazy Cat's Blog Entry to dedicate an entire post to my 3rd LOVE-KARAOKE
People who know me personally will OBVIOUSLY NOTICE that I ADORE KAROKE SESSIONS. They will also notice that I TOTALLY SUCK AT IT.
But WHO FUCKING CARES?
Singing is THERAPEUTIC.Not only it is an outlet for your exasperated souls, karaoke sessions has an ability to turn you into a TEMPORARY STAR.
(But it is also fascinating how everyone avoids you the next day if YOU SCREW UP. Oh well, no wonder some stars shoot themselves dead.)
I have compiled a comprehensive song list which makes me thrive as a KARAOKE STAR. Try these when you have the chance:
1) Sometimes When We Touch by ROD STEWART.
This is absolutely failproof as a karaoke debut. The notes are low, it is a man's song and the lyrics are soppy enough for strangers to acquaint with your sentimental side as a serious singer.
2) Flying without Wings by WESTLIFE
This song is fucking easy to start with. It begins with an accapella section for you show off your sultry vocals. The notes are constantly in the low but BEWARE, there is also a HIGH part towards the end. When that high octave approaches (goes along the lines of ,'So impossible.. as they may seem..') quickly pass the microphone to the person next to you or pretend that you have to answer your mobile....
3) How Do I Live by LEANN RIMES
This is the song I choose when some guy I fancy fucks my mind up before the karaoke session. Yeah, I know it takes a hell lot of skill to hit those high notes like Leann Rimes, but who said karaoke singing isn't about emotions???
4) The End of World by SKEETER DAVIS
Another personal favourite. Relatively easy to sing, logical lyrics and a sure-hit if you have old family relatives watching.
5) My Heart Will Go On by CELINE DION
Now, ONLY ATTEMPT THIS IF YOU ARE DRUNK.
Seriously.
6) GUANTANAMERA
Another failproof song. Apparently I sing better in Spanish than to speak it. People are often drawn to you if you attempt a karaoke song in a foreign language. Just make sure there are no native speakers nearby....
7) Unbreak My Heart by TONI BRAXTON
Make sure you are DRUNK, EMOTIONAL and INTOXICATED when you attempt this. This song is fucking EXCELLENT if you are DUMPED the day before the karaoke session. And make sure only your good friends are around you.
8) ANY BOYZONE SONG
Everyone can sing a Boyzone song without difficulty. Karaoke versions of their songs are often lowered to neutral key, which means that there are no high notes to hit. (including Stephen Gately's parts)
9) AVOID ANY MARIAH CAREY SONGS
I know some of you fancy screaming out HERO on microphone.. but have mercy on the listeners. To take on Mariah's songs is to have extraordinary lungpower, perfect pitch vocals and amazing passion.... a combination which is one in a million. Only try her songs if you want to shame yourself to oblivion.
10) RICKY MARTIN
Best way to end any over-pissed party with some Living La Vida Loca anthems because by then everyone would be too drunk to notice if you're completely out of tune......
---------------------------
Disclaimer: This songlist DOES NOT reflect on my music taste. I listed them down because they are usually found in most karaoke machines....
I was inspired by Crazy Cat's Blog Entry to dedicate an entire post to my 3rd LOVE-KARAOKE
People who know me personally will OBVIOUSLY NOTICE that I ADORE KAROKE SESSIONS. They will also notice that I TOTALLY SUCK AT IT.
But WHO FUCKING CARES?
Singing is THERAPEUTIC.Not only it is an outlet for your exasperated souls, karaoke sessions has an ability to turn you into a TEMPORARY STAR.
(But it is also fascinating how everyone avoids you the next day if YOU SCREW UP. Oh well, no wonder some stars shoot themselves dead.)
I have compiled a comprehensive song list which makes me thrive as a KARAOKE STAR. Try these when you have the chance:
1) Sometimes When We Touch by ROD STEWART.
This is absolutely failproof as a karaoke debut. The notes are low, it is a man's song and the lyrics are soppy enough for strangers to acquaint with your sentimental side as a serious singer.
2) Flying without Wings by WESTLIFE
This song is fucking easy to start with. It begins with an accapella section for you show off your sultry vocals. The notes are constantly in the low but BEWARE, there is also a HIGH part towards the end. When that high octave approaches (goes along the lines of ,'So impossible.. as they may seem..') quickly pass the microphone to the person next to you or pretend that you have to answer your mobile....
3) How Do I Live by LEANN RIMES
This is the song I choose when some guy I fancy fucks my mind up before the karaoke session. Yeah, I know it takes a hell lot of skill to hit those high notes like Leann Rimes, but who said karaoke singing isn't about emotions???
4) The End of World by SKEETER DAVIS
Another personal favourite. Relatively easy to sing, logical lyrics and a sure-hit if you have old family relatives watching.
5) My Heart Will Go On by CELINE DION
Now, ONLY ATTEMPT THIS IF YOU ARE DRUNK.
Seriously.
6) GUANTANAMERA
Another failproof song. Apparently I sing better in Spanish than to speak it. People are often drawn to you if you attempt a karaoke song in a foreign language. Just make sure there are no native speakers nearby....
7) Unbreak My Heart by TONI BRAXTON
Make sure you are DRUNK, EMOTIONAL and INTOXICATED when you attempt this. This song is fucking EXCELLENT if you are DUMPED the day before the karaoke session. And make sure only your good friends are around you.
8) ANY BOYZONE SONG
Everyone can sing a Boyzone song without difficulty. Karaoke versions of their songs are often lowered to neutral key, which means that there are no high notes to hit. (including Stephen Gately's parts)
9) AVOID ANY MARIAH CAREY SONGS
I know some of you fancy screaming out HERO on microphone.. but have mercy on the listeners. To take on Mariah's songs is to have extraordinary lungpower, perfect pitch vocals and amazing passion.... a combination which is one in a million. Only try her songs if you want to shame yourself to oblivion.
10) RICKY MARTIN
Best way to end any over-pissed party with some Living La Vida Loca anthems because by then everyone would be too drunk to notice if you're completely out of tune......
---------------------------
Disclaimer: This songlist DOES NOT reflect on my music taste. I listed them down because they are usually found in most karaoke machines....
Tuesday, August 30, 2005
Dissertation on a SUNNY DAY!?!???
Crooning on my STEREO: Don't Get No Betta by CASSIDY
I just realised that I HAVE NOT RANTED in the past two posts. How unusual. Happiness doesn't last forever so its time to get back into the habit.
OKAY. SAME OLD STORY.
I HATE STAYING INDOORS TO WRITE MY FUCKING DISSERTATION ON A REMARKABLY SUNNY DAY!!!!!
A sunny day in Britain comes by as often as I pick up men from Regents Park. Like, seriously... was there A REAL SUMMER this year?
Fuck, don't lie to me. The sun only comes out whenever I am stuck indoors sniffing glue and eating paper...
TODAY IS SUCH A DAY. MY BACK IS SORE FROM A CERTAIN CHAINSAW AND LEAKING STRANGE LIQUIDS ALL OVER MY NEW SHIRT. AND I HAVE ONLY PENNED 4000 WORDS OF FAECES.
I think I sound weird today. I feel like I am high on ecstasy. You can't blame me, I've been locking myself indoors to get this shit over and done with. But NO. I've just been eating like a goddamn fat ass. Everyone is bloody tempting me to go out but I have to turn them down like an arrogant bitch...
One more thing, tommorrow is MALAYSIA'S NATIONAL DAY. In an attempt to prove that I am 100% MALAYSIAN I am going to blog entirely in MALAY.
Till then!
I just realised that I HAVE NOT RANTED in the past two posts. How unusual. Happiness doesn't last forever so its time to get back into the habit.
OKAY. SAME OLD STORY.
I HATE STAYING INDOORS TO WRITE MY FUCKING DISSERTATION ON A REMARKABLY SUNNY DAY!!!!!
A sunny day in Britain comes by as often as I pick up men from Regents Park. Like, seriously... was there A REAL SUMMER this year?
Fuck, don't lie to me. The sun only comes out whenever I am stuck indoors sniffing glue and eating paper...
TODAY IS SUCH A DAY. MY BACK IS SORE FROM A CERTAIN CHAINSAW AND LEAKING STRANGE LIQUIDS ALL OVER MY NEW SHIRT. AND I HAVE ONLY PENNED 4000 WORDS OF FAECES.
I think I sound weird today. I feel like I am high on ecstasy. You can't blame me, I've been locking myself indoors to get this shit over and done with. But NO. I've just been eating like a goddamn fat ass. Everyone is bloody tempting me to go out but I have to turn them down like an arrogant bitch...
One more thing, tommorrow is MALAYSIA'S NATIONAL DAY. In an attempt to prove that I am 100% MALAYSIAN I am going to blog entirely in MALAY.
Till then!
Sunday, August 28, 2005
Glass Menagerie
Crooning on my STEREO: Yamore by SALIF KEITA
First of all, I posted the picture up on the right to make you all GREEN WITH ENVY.
Contrary to popular belief, I DID NOT MUTILATE KRACKER to make salami and tomato pizza.
With my sadistic history, I'd love to. I'd itch to. I'd die to. But I could not bring myself to do it. I just couldn't.
My heart tells me, strictly, NO.
BECAUSE KRACKER IS SUCH A DARLING.
I mean it. I am usually too arrogant to praise LIVING men.
(Okay, apart from DAVID BISBAL. Or Reyes. Or Casillas, or O-ZONE.......)
For those of you swooning over Kracker out there,
You SHOULD be.
Damn, I am actually missing those 48hr beer sessions. Poor Kracker must be relieved to leave an alcohol-laden weekend!!!
Oh, and Flemish is such a dead sexy language.....
First of all, I posted the picture up on the right to make you all GREEN WITH ENVY.
Contrary to popular belief, I DID NOT MUTILATE KRACKER to make salami and tomato pizza.
With my sadistic history, I'd love to. I'd itch to. I'd die to. But I could not bring myself to do it. I just couldn't.
My heart tells me, strictly, NO.
BECAUSE KRACKER IS SUCH A DARLING.
I mean it. I am usually too arrogant to praise LIVING men.
(Okay, apart from DAVID BISBAL. Or Reyes. Or Casillas, or O-ZONE.......)
For those of you swooning over Kracker out there,
You SHOULD be.
Damn, I am actually missing those 48hr beer sessions. Poor Kracker must be relieved to leave an alcohol-laden weekend!!!
Oh, and Flemish is such a dead sexy language.....
Wednesday, August 24, 2005
CONFESSION BOX- PART ONE
Crooning on my STEREO: Somethin Stupid by ROBBIE WILLIAMS & NICOLE KIDMAN
Dear Padre Amaro,
I hath come to confess my sins committed within the last 5 days. I hath blown my weekly allowance by 500quid on materialistic pleasures.
Bad, I know.
But I contend that such is necessary. As our Heavenly Father would have probably noticed, I was plagued by earthly evils such as MAN PROBLEMS that consequently leads to WORK PROCRASTINATION and LOW SELF ESTEEM.
So......in divine grace and courage I needed to get myself out of this rut. Therefore I needed a GOOD BREAK. Instead of moaning like a discontented harlot, I resorted to the simple mortal approach of
RETAIL THERAPY
Thank God for this miraculous decision. I spent three wonderful days with one my dearest friends and bought a bagload full of beautifying junk.
Not only hath I come back impoverished like a church mouse,
LIFE LOOKS WONDERFUL ONCE AGAIN
I had my final dose of mayonnaise drenched kebab, I waved goodbye to Dunkirk where I dwelled for 2 years and sworn at sinful night haunts such as THE WORKS and FACES for shutting its doors on a MONDAY NIGHT. I even took an eternal memorabilia of the Beeston Chavs whom I so, so, so adored and am going to miss. (above)
Okay. I am beginning to sound shallow. Then again, God made me a total woman. I like clothes. I like shoes. I like legwarmers.
But I like God too.
I really do.
Therefore I am here to seek divine forgiveness simply because no other mortal being was hurt in this prompt self indulgence process.
Praise good ol' God for imparting the origins of retail therapy. It hath saved many a troubled soul.
Oh, another request for forgiveness: I will be sorting my tattoo this weekend.......
Thank You Father. Please grant me a abundant week ahead... *cough cough*
Dear Padre Amaro,
I hath come to confess my sins committed within the last 5 days. I hath blown my weekly allowance by 500quid on materialistic pleasures.
Bad, I know.
But I contend that such is necessary. As our Heavenly Father would have probably noticed, I was plagued by earthly evils such as MAN PROBLEMS that consequently leads to WORK PROCRASTINATION and LOW SELF ESTEEM.
So......in divine grace and courage I needed to get myself out of this rut. Therefore I needed a GOOD BREAK. Instead of moaning like a discontented harlot, I resorted to the simple mortal approach of
RETAIL THERAPY
Thank God for this miraculous decision. I spent three wonderful days with one my dearest friends and bought a bagload full of beautifying junk.
Not only hath I come back impoverished like a church mouse,
LIFE LOOKS WONDERFUL ONCE AGAIN
I had my final dose of mayonnaise drenched kebab, I waved goodbye to Dunkirk where I dwelled for 2 years and sworn at sinful night haunts such as THE WORKS and FACES for shutting its doors on a MONDAY NIGHT. I even took an eternal memorabilia of the Beeston Chavs whom I so, so, so adored and am going to miss. (above)
Okay. I am beginning to sound shallow. Then again, God made me a total woman. I like clothes. I like shoes. I like legwarmers.
But I like God too.
I really do.
Therefore I am here to seek divine forgiveness simply because no other mortal being was hurt in this prompt self indulgence process.
Praise good ol' God for imparting the origins of retail therapy. It hath saved many a troubled soul.
Oh, another request for forgiveness: I will be sorting my tattoo this weekend.......
Thank You Father. Please grant me a abundant week ahead... *cough cough*
Sunday, August 21, 2005
Toilet: Part 2
Crooning on my STEREO: I'd die for you by GARBAGE
BREAKING NEWS:
I FIXED MY TOILET WITH MY BARE HANDS!!!!!!
I'm still heading off anyway.
BREAKING NEWS:
I FIXED MY TOILET WITH MY BARE HANDS!!!!!!
I'm still heading off anyway.
Toilet
Crooning on my STEREO: Other Side of the World by KT TUNSTALL
I HATE MY TOILET
It gets BUSTED every month. Now I can't PEE. And I can't SHIT.
My landlord is nowhere to be found.
Plumbers don't fucking work on weekends.
And my agent claims that they can only send a plumber on THURSDAY.
HELLO????? THURSDAY???!?!!? I will die of internal clog-up before the weekend is over.
Okay, save me from this crap. I am leaving London for Nottingham in a few hours time. I will vanish for three days till I can come back and EGEST in PEACE.
Ciao all. Its a massive sports day today.
MAY ARSENAL trash CHELSEA to the POINT OF OBLIVION.
MAY MCLAREN KICK RENAULT'S PRETENTIOUS ASS.................
*Lyn manages to leave before she turns laddish.*
I HATE MY TOILET
It gets BUSTED every month. Now I can't PEE. And I can't SHIT.
My landlord is nowhere to be found.
Plumbers don't fucking work on weekends.
And my agent claims that they can only send a plumber on THURSDAY.
HELLO????? THURSDAY???!?!!? I will die of internal clog-up before the weekend is over.
Okay, save me from this crap. I am leaving London for Nottingham in a few hours time. I will vanish for three days till I can come back and EGEST in PEACE.
Ciao all. Its a massive sports day today.
MAY ARSENAL trash CHELSEA to the POINT OF OBLIVION.
MAY MCLAREN KICK RENAULT'S PRETENTIOUS ASS.................
*Lyn manages to leave before she turns laddish.*
Friday, August 19, 2005
Jet Lag sucks.
Crooning on my STEREO: Roll With It by OASIS
It is SEVEN in the morning and I am WIDE AWAKE. I am so freaking jet lagged, neurotic and half-miserable.
I'm also on a caffeine overdose.
I HATE JET LAG. I HATE TO WAKE UP SO FUCKING EARLY WHEN HALF THE GODDAMN WORLD IS ASLEEP. I HATE TO RESTRAIN FROM BLASTING MY SUBWOOFER WHEN THE ENTIRE BLOCK ARE FUCKING ABOUT IN SLUMBERLAND...
But then again, I remind myself that this will be the LAST time I am stuck alone in this 'between' sleep nonsense.
I don't have to do this anymore. Soon, I will never have to bang my head against the wall to cure morning migraines. No more daily procrastination of getting some stupid essay done. No more having to listen to WESTLIFE start my day. No more whingeing to my employed landans early in the morning bofore THEY get to work.
YOU SEE, WORKING JET LAG IS DIFFERENT FROM HOLIDAY JET LAG.
At this moment I am utilising my morning sickness to design an extension to my current tattoo. The caffeine is rotting me. I feel the urge to alter the stupid dragonfly on my back which most random sluts ALSO have. I am a total disgrace as an art historian..... I seriously don't know what was going on in my head when I picked such a COMMON design 2 years ago.
Ideas? Anyone?
I HAVE DONE PEANUTS FOR MY DISSERTATION.......PAH!
It is SEVEN in the morning and I am WIDE AWAKE. I am so freaking jet lagged, neurotic and half-miserable.
I'm also on a caffeine overdose.
I HATE JET LAG. I HATE TO WAKE UP SO FUCKING EARLY WHEN HALF THE GODDAMN WORLD IS ASLEEP. I HATE TO RESTRAIN FROM BLASTING MY SUBWOOFER WHEN THE ENTIRE BLOCK ARE FUCKING ABOUT IN SLUMBERLAND...
But then again, I remind myself that this will be the LAST time I am stuck alone in this 'between' sleep nonsense.
I don't have to do this anymore. Soon, I will never have to bang my head against the wall to cure morning migraines. No more daily procrastination of getting some stupid essay done. No more having to listen to WESTLIFE start my day. No more whingeing to my employed landans early in the morning bofore THEY get to work.
YOU SEE, WORKING JET LAG IS DIFFERENT FROM HOLIDAY JET LAG.
At this moment I am utilising my morning sickness to design an extension to my current tattoo. The caffeine is rotting me. I feel the urge to alter the stupid dragonfly on my back which most random sluts ALSO have. I am a total disgrace as an art historian..... I seriously don't know what was going on in my head when I picked such a COMMON design 2 years ago.
Ideas? Anyone?
I HAVE DONE PEANUTS FOR MY DISSERTATION.......PAH!
Tuesday, August 16, 2005
Don't Look Back In Anger
Crooning on my STEREO: Oh No! What You Got by JUSTIN TIMBERLAKE
I am going to tell the WHOLE WORLD I bought a DECK CHAIR yesterday. You can check it out HERE
After 6 weeks of BRAIN DEAD EXISTENCE, I will be heading back to LONDON tommorrow night.
It is my MA Dissertation that is fucking DEPRESSING me. Okay, it is my fault I have written NOTHING for the past god knows how many weeks. I've only been slacking about with my lazy folks and pissing about with my caffeinated friends at home.
NOW I HAVE EXACTLY THREE WEEKS TO PEN OUT 15,000 WORDS.. WOOHOO!!!!
When you look at it, you can say that I am kind of DEAD. Look, how the fuck can I get my masterpiece published and earn a much needed scholarship for my PHD when barely 0.2% of my brain is in function?!?!?!
Let's GET REAL: IT WONT HAPPEN.
IT JUST WONT, OKAY?
So I am gonna LIVE.
YES. YOU HAVE READ IT RIGHT.
I AM GOING TO LIVE.
No more whingeing. For the next three months I am gonna WORK MY ASS OFF AND PLAY SO HARD THAT I HAVE THE WHOLE FUCKING WORLD TO LIVE FOR.
Why? Because these will be my final three months as a STUDENT in EUROPE.
Fuck First Class. I am gonna hand in my thesis on time. I am gonna KICK ASS and head off to ANDALUCIA for at least 2 WEEKS. FRIENDS!!! better start booking your time slot to see me in LONDON before you're subjected to my infamous waiting list....
Now I know why God made me a Single Woman.
I am going to tell the WHOLE WORLD I bought a DECK CHAIR yesterday. You can check it out HERE
After 6 weeks of BRAIN DEAD EXISTENCE, I will be heading back to LONDON tommorrow night.
It is my MA Dissertation that is fucking DEPRESSING me. Okay, it is my fault I have written NOTHING for the past god knows how many weeks. I've only been slacking about with my lazy folks and pissing about with my caffeinated friends at home.
NOW I HAVE EXACTLY THREE WEEKS TO PEN OUT 15,000 WORDS.. WOOHOO!!!!
When you look at it, you can say that I am kind of DEAD. Look, how the fuck can I get my masterpiece published and earn a much needed scholarship for my PHD when barely 0.2% of my brain is in function?!?!?!
Let's GET REAL: IT WONT HAPPEN.
IT JUST WONT, OKAY?
So I am gonna LIVE.
YES. YOU HAVE READ IT RIGHT.
I AM GOING TO LIVE.
No more whingeing. For the next three months I am gonna WORK MY ASS OFF AND PLAY SO HARD THAT I HAVE THE WHOLE FUCKING WORLD TO LIVE FOR.
Why? Because these will be my final three months as a STUDENT in EUROPE.
Fuck First Class. I am gonna hand in my thesis on time. I am gonna KICK ASS and head off to ANDALUCIA for at least 2 WEEKS. FRIENDS!!! better start booking your time slot to see me in LONDON before you're subjected to my infamous waiting list....
Now I know why God made me a Single Woman.
Saturday, May 14, 2005
Death at Tottenham Court Road, Part 2.
Crooning on my STEREO: Amor Divino by CAFE TACUBA
People tell me I've got a common face. I didn't quite believe them until today.
I was walking towards KFC to get some dinner. So I plugged in my Ipod and walked. And walked. And walked. And walked. And walked.
I was crossing the pedestrian at Tottenham Court Road when some BLOKE grabbed me on the back and jumped on me.
FUCK, I told myself.. I WILL BE ROBBED IN BROAD DAYLIGHT!!!!!!!!
(fear didn't overwhelm me because I barely had 6 quid in my wallet...)
Anyway, I am not the screaming type, so it was a silent affair. But I was carrying a 70kg man on my back, so I had to improvise and fall to the ground before my spine cracks. Strangely though, there wasn't much violence.....so I thought, maybe this could be a long lost friend who had decided to stalk and surprise me......
After managing to rid him off my back, my attacker was a bespectacled boy with a BARCELONA FC strip on.
We both looked at each other in HORROR.
HE THOUGHT I WAS HIS GIRLFRIEND.
He was so apologetic. I don't blame him, bet he must be shit embarassed. I resumed my journey to KFC and limped home after that. Stupid accident got me bruises.
Let's be optimistic, at least I was physically LOVED for 10 seconds...
So much pain for something I was desperately lacking for the past 2 weeks.
--------------------------
** Back to the 'common face' theory: this is not the first time I've been mistaken for some other idiot. Every 2 outta 5 friends claimed that they've spotted my identical twin somewhere in this world, and every 3 outta 5 people I meet tell me they've seen me somewhere before.
Not that I am FAMOUS, ( altho' I madly wish I am for the right reasons...) it is just that I resemble an unfortunate percentage of the world's population so I may opt for EXTREME MAKEOVER to gain some individuality.
People tell me I've got a common face. I didn't quite believe them until today.
I was walking towards KFC to get some dinner. So I plugged in my Ipod and walked. And walked. And walked. And walked. And walked.
I was crossing the pedestrian at Tottenham Court Road when some BLOKE grabbed me on the back and jumped on me.
FUCK, I told myself.. I WILL BE ROBBED IN BROAD DAYLIGHT!!!!!!!!
(fear didn't overwhelm me because I barely had 6 quid in my wallet...)
Anyway, I am not the screaming type, so it was a silent affair. But I was carrying a 70kg man on my back, so I had to improvise and fall to the ground before my spine cracks. Strangely though, there wasn't much violence.....so I thought, maybe this could be a long lost friend who had decided to stalk and surprise me......
After managing to rid him off my back, my attacker was a bespectacled boy with a BARCELONA FC strip on.
We both looked at each other in HORROR.
HE THOUGHT I WAS HIS GIRLFRIEND.
He was so apologetic. I don't blame him, bet he must be shit embarassed. I resumed my journey to KFC and limped home after that. Stupid accident got me bruises.
Let's be optimistic, at least I was physically LOVED for 10 seconds...
So much pain for something I was desperately lacking for the past 2 weeks.
--------------------------
** Back to the 'common face' theory: this is not the first time I've been mistaken for some other idiot. Every 2 outta 5 friends claimed that they've spotted my identical twin somewhere in this world, and every 3 outta 5 people I meet tell me they've seen me somewhere before.
Not that I am FAMOUS, ( altho' I madly wish I am for the right reasons...) it is just that I resemble an unfortunate percentage of the world's population so I may opt for EXTREME MAKEOVER to gain some individuality.
Monday, March 14, 2005
Important lessons learnt this week.
Crooning on my STEREO: All About You by MCFLY
1) Do not mix Estee Lauder's Sunless bronzer with Clinique Dramatically Different Gel. Unless you are heading for Faux Pas.
2) A cheesy smile will NOT get you acting jobs. (see pic.)
3) It is OKAY to be seen buying MCFLY's single. Explain that you're just doing your bit for charity (Comic Relief). Really?
4) Remember to switch OFF your fan heater before you leave the flat. Electric bills in this country are fucked.
5) It is POSSIBLE to feel sorry for Manchester United fans while feeling sorry for yourself. (very rare)
6) The Diary of Anne Frank makes a better read than Bridget Jones' Diary. huh Huh.
7) STALKING the old college librarian has its benefits. ie. you escape overdue fines.
8) Do not eat any form of GARLIC before a film shoot. Swear on it.
9) The only way to escape the epidemic FLU is to lock yourself in and have aboslutely no physical contact with anyone for the next month or so.
10) I have dropped my Ipod at least 20 times onto the wooden floor and it is still working. Pretty Fine.
11) Stay away from Michelangelo Antonioni films. Watching the trilogy drove me up the wall.
1) Do not mix Estee Lauder's Sunless bronzer with Clinique Dramatically Different Gel. Unless you are heading for Faux Pas.
2) A cheesy smile will NOT get you acting jobs. (see pic.)
3) It is OKAY to be seen buying MCFLY's single. Explain that you're just doing your bit for charity (Comic Relief). Really?
4) Remember to switch OFF your fan heater before you leave the flat. Electric bills in this country are fucked.
5) It is POSSIBLE to feel sorry for Manchester United fans while feeling sorry for yourself. (very rare)
6) The Diary of Anne Frank makes a better read than Bridget Jones' Diary. huh Huh.
7) STALKING the old college librarian has its benefits. ie. you escape overdue fines.
8) Do not eat any form of GARLIC before a film shoot. Swear on it.
9) The only way to escape the epidemic FLU is to lock yourself in and have aboslutely no physical contact with anyone for the next month or so.
10) I have dropped my Ipod at least 20 times onto the wooden floor and it is still working. Pretty Fine.
11) Stay away from Michelangelo Antonioni films. Watching the trilogy drove me up the wall.
Friday, March 04, 2005
MCFLY MCFLY MCFLY
Crooning on my STEREO: Obviously by MCFLY
I've gone shallow in the past 48hours and I've been listening to British boyband MCFLY's hit "OBVIOUSLY" on repeat. The LYRICS.... believe it or not, as CORNY as they may seem, do make some DECENT sense. Be glad that I didn't decide to quote Backstreet Boys......."I waaaannnntttt itttttt daaaatttttt waaaayyyy...."
OBVIOUSLY by MCFLY
Recently I've been
Hopelessly reachin'
Out for this girl
Who's out of this world
Believe me
She's got a boyfriend
He drives her 'round the bend
Cuz he's 23
He's in the marines
He'd kill me
Been so many nights now
I find myself thinkin about her now
CHORUS:
Cause obviously she's out of my league
But how can I win
She keeps draggin me in
And I know I
NEVER will be good enough for her
No no
I NEVER will be good enough for her
Got to escape now
Get on a plane now
Yeah
Off to LA
And that's where I'll stay
For two years
I'll put it behind me
(I'll put it behind me)
And go to a place where she can't find me
Ohhh
Cause obviously she's out of my league
I'm wastin my time
Cause she'll never be mine
And I know I
Never will be good enough for her
No no
I never will be good enough for her
------------
My favourite bit is the chorus. I was singing it at the top of my voice until concerned neighbours checked on me.
Yeah, I CONFESS. I admit that I haven't been coherent lately.
Sometimes I despise being an actress. It really messes with my head.
I SWEAR IT DOES.
Come on, I am even listening to MCFLY.
How SCREWED can I get??
I've gone shallow in the past 48hours and I've been listening to British boyband MCFLY's hit "OBVIOUSLY" on repeat. The LYRICS.... believe it or not, as CORNY as they may seem, do make some DECENT sense. Be glad that I didn't decide to quote Backstreet Boys......."I waaaannnntttt itttttt daaaatttttt waaaayyyy...."
OBVIOUSLY by MCFLY
Recently I've been
Hopelessly reachin'
Out for this girl
Who's out of this world
Believe me
She's got a boyfriend
He drives her 'round the bend
Cuz he's 23
He's in the marines
He'd kill me
Been so many nights now
I find myself thinkin about her now
CHORUS:
Cause obviously she's out of my league
But how can I win
She keeps draggin me in
And I know I
NEVER will be good enough for her
No no
I NEVER will be good enough for her
Got to escape now
Get on a plane now
Yeah
Off to LA
And that's where I'll stay
For two years
I'll put it behind me
(I'll put it behind me)
And go to a place where she can't find me
Ohhh
Cause obviously she's out of my league
I'm wastin my time
Cause she'll never be mine
And I know I
Never will be good enough for her
No no
I never will be good enough for her
------------
My favourite bit is the chorus. I was singing it at the top of my voice until concerned neighbours checked on me.
Yeah, I CONFESS. I admit that I haven't been coherent lately.
Sometimes I despise being an actress. It really messes with my head.
I SWEAR IT DOES.
Come on, I am even listening to MCFLY.
How SCREWED can I get??
Wednesday, February 23, 2005
Highbury
Crooning on my STEREO: Aint No Sunshine by LADYSMITH BLACK MAMBAZO & DES'REE
I needed to squeeze something out of my head to cure this blog clot. Oh, I need to clarify one wildfire rumour which has been running around; I am NOT acting alongside Gael Garcia Bernal in Blood Wedding. (Although it is quite flattering when come to think of it...........dream on, Lyn)
But I do need TICKETS for the opening show.. anyone????
Today, on impulse, I embarked out on a snowfilled adventure to Highbury right after drama school. This lovely picture of Thierry Henry inspired me to do so:
Yes, it is THAT wristband. Those Nike anti-racism campaign wristbands which have been sold out for donkey years. Today I rang up the Arsenal store to check its availability. The Highbury branch had 5 left so I immediately jumped on the tube and got off at the Highbury & Islington station. Being the bloody ignorant fool I am, I got off at the WRONG stop. The stop I assumed was the stadium stop is, in reality, a good 45mins walk to the actual store itself.
I could have gotten off at the ARSENAL stop (DOH!!).. but noooooooo, I stupidly assumed it was the HIGHBURY & ISLINGTON station.
After wandering around rural Islington for one hour (while caught in a coincidential SNOWSTORM) and failing to locate the stadium AND the merchandise store...(while enduring suspicious stares from the locals) I found my way back to the tube and ended up at Finsbury Park. (Londoners: you should know what I am talking about). I actually took another WRONG tube in the WRONG direction when I intended to head back to WARREN STREET. So here I am, at Finsbury Park Zone 2. Hoo-Hah!
I thought to myself: I should get out of this stinky tube and explore the 'beauty' of Greater London. As I walked out of the tube, guess what?
THE FRIGGING ARSENAL MERCHANDISE STORE WAS STARING AT MY FACE
And they had 1000 wristbands in stock.
I only bought 2. And a 2quid Reyes bobblehead. (which resembles more like Ashley Cole with the no.9 shirt on...no wonder it was discounted)
And the wristband looks shit on me.
Someone even thought that I was wearing a funerary tribute on my wrist.
Note: For humanity's sake, can someone please eradicate bloody Bayern Munich glory hunters?? It is fucking annoying when idiots who HARDLY ever watch football yack away just because they've watched ONE important match.... URGH.
Whats with this sudden emergence of Munich female fans?????
I needed to squeeze something out of my head to cure this blog clot. Oh, I need to clarify one wildfire rumour which has been running around; I am NOT acting alongside Gael Garcia Bernal in Blood Wedding. (Although it is quite flattering when come to think of it...........dream on, Lyn)
But I do need TICKETS for the opening show.. anyone????
Today, on impulse, I embarked out on a snowfilled adventure to Highbury right after drama school. This lovely picture of Thierry Henry inspired me to do so:
Yes, it is THAT wristband. Those Nike anti-racism campaign wristbands which have been sold out for donkey years. Today I rang up the Arsenal store to check its availability. The Highbury branch had 5 left so I immediately jumped on the tube and got off at the Highbury & Islington station. Being the bloody ignorant fool I am, I got off at the WRONG stop. The stop I assumed was the stadium stop is, in reality, a good 45mins walk to the actual store itself.
I could have gotten off at the ARSENAL stop (DOH!!).. but noooooooo, I stupidly assumed it was the HIGHBURY & ISLINGTON station.
After wandering around rural Islington for one hour (while caught in a coincidential SNOWSTORM) and failing to locate the stadium AND the merchandise store...(while enduring suspicious stares from the locals) I found my way back to the tube and ended up at Finsbury Park. (Londoners: you should know what I am talking about). I actually took another WRONG tube in the WRONG direction when I intended to head back to WARREN STREET. So here I am, at Finsbury Park Zone 2. Hoo-Hah!
I thought to myself: I should get out of this stinky tube and explore the 'beauty' of Greater London. As I walked out of the tube, guess what?
THE FRIGGING ARSENAL MERCHANDISE STORE WAS STARING AT MY FACE
And they had 1000 wristbands in stock.
I only bought 2. And a 2quid Reyes bobblehead. (which resembles more like Ashley Cole with the no.9 shirt on...no wonder it was discounted)
And the wristband looks shit on me.
Someone even thought that I was wearing a funerary tribute on my wrist.
Note: For humanity's sake, can someone please eradicate bloody Bayern Munich glory hunters?? It is fucking annoying when idiots who HARDLY ever watch football yack away just because they've watched ONE important match.... URGH.
Whats with this sudden emergence of Munich female fans?????
Tuesday, February 15, 2005
Happy Belated Valentine's Day!!!!
Crooning on my STEREO: Somebody Told Me by THE KILLERS
I am watching the Football For Hope match on ITV2 now, Ronaldinho XI is currently leading 6-3 to Shevchenko XI.
Courtesy of a nervous breakdown recently, I have absolutely nothing to blog.
Just do me an utterly kind favour by commenting (or slagging) the photo above......
I am watching the Football For Hope match on ITV2 now, Ronaldinho XI is currently leading 6-3 to Shevchenko XI.
Courtesy of a nervous breakdown recently, I have absolutely nothing to blog.
Just do me an utterly kind favour by commenting (or slagging) the photo above......
Monday, February 07, 2005
Phantom of the Cinema
Crooning on my STEREO: August Day Song by BEBEL GILBERTO
I am beginning to think that I'm morphing into a hideous ghoul and I have absolutely no frigging idea why I am thoughtfully blessed with this physical perfection.
- I keep getting audition calls to play phantoms, aliens and creatures in low budget horror films. Apparently, I look the part.
- I bumped into a couple of my neighbours in the course of 3 days. Their reaction? HORROR.
They gasp when they see me (not at my exceptional beauty but as though they've walked into a BANSHEE in broad daylight)
- Wonderful friend(s) of mine hasn't stopped harping on the fact that i look like a Soho prostitute with mascara on. I, on the other hand, believe that I look BLIND without mascara.
Hello??? GISELLE uses MASCARA TOO, y' know????
- Airheaded beauty consultants at the Harrods Clinique counter blatantly said to me,' Your skin needs A LOT of work.'
I suddenly refuse to buy my dream lip gloss from them. DOH.
- The worst bit: No Frank Lampard lookalikes pick me up in clubs anymore. I only get attention from Asianphillic old men.
Sigh.
-----------------------------------
Thats it. I've had enough from you people. I am going to book myself into a spa this weekend and sort my self esteem.
What the fuck.
I am beginning to think that I'm morphing into a hideous ghoul and I have absolutely no frigging idea why I am thoughtfully blessed with this physical perfection.
- I keep getting audition calls to play phantoms, aliens and creatures in low budget horror films. Apparently, I look the part.
- I bumped into a couple of my neighbours in the course of 3 days. Their reaction? HORROR.
They gasp when they see me (not at my exceptional beauty but as though they've walked into a BANSHEE in broad daylight)
- Wonderful friend(s) of mine hasn't stopped harping on the fact that i look like a Soho prostitute with mascara on. I, on the other hand, believe that I look BLIND without mascara.
Hello??? GISELLE uses MASCARA TOO, y' know????
- Airheaded beauty consultants at the Harrods Clinique counter blatantly said to me,' Your skin needs A LOT of work.'
I suddenly refuse to buy my dream lip gloss from them. DOH.
- The worst bit: No Frank Lampard lookalikes pick me up in clubs anymore. I only get attention from Asianphillic old men.
Sigh.
-----------------------------------
Thats it. I've had enough from you people. I am going to book myself into a spa this weekend and sort my self esteem.
What the fuck.
Tuesday, February 01, 2005
SONGS and STUPIDITY
Crooning on my STEREO: Matinee by FRANZ FERDINAND
I tuned into TMF this morning and stupidity is what I got.
1) Eric Prydz's club trash CALL ON ME hit the no.1 spot on the UK Summer Charts.
Come on! Go spend 3 quid on a retarded single that goes on and on and on: 'CALL ON ME... CALL ON ME... CALL ON ME... CALL ON ME... CALL ON ME... CALL ON ME...'
Bloody phenomenal songwriting skills.
2)BLAZING SQUAD (pic)
It's been three years and they are STILL around. They even have a fansite.
3)Influx of RnB
Not that I despise RnB, but there are just too many around. So many that you cant figure out who's who, or what is what... all their videos share the same components; skimpy women, club scenes, fat pimps and cheap Bling.
4)CHRISTINA AGUILERA and MISSY ELLIOT
Firstly, that CARWASH song is such a shit deafening remake; so much of shouting and screaming.
Secondly, Missy Elliot gets paid for sitting around in the studio (in her sweatpants) fidgeting with switches..pretending to look knowledgable with the equalisers.
What the hell did she rap??
5)DAVID HASSELHOLF (That Baywatch lifeguard..however you spell his name)
WHAT?????Did he SING????
6) EMINEM
I know a handful of you worship him as the god of sincerity, depth, honesty and blah blah. But his videos are just not funny anymore. Its lame to dress up as michael jackson and matadors.
Okay, I 've had too much of stupidity drummed into my puny brain. Time to turn off the telly and worry about the Arsenal match tonight.
I tuned into TMF this morning and stupidity is what I got.
1) Eric Prydz's club trash CALL ON ME hit the no.1 spot on the UK Summer Charts.
Come on! Go spend 3 quid on a retarded single that goes on and on and on: 'CALL ON ME... CALL ON ME... CALL ON ME... CALL ON ME... CALL ON ME... CALL ON ME...'
Bloody phenomenal songwriting skills.
2)BLAZING SQUAD (pic)
It's been three years and they are STILL around. They even have a fansite.
3)Influx of RnB
Not that I despise RnB, but there are just too many around. So many that you cant figure out who's who, or what is what... all their videos share the same components; skimpy women, club scenes, fat pimps and cheap Bling.
4)CHRISTINA AGUILERA and MISSY ELLIOT
Firstly, that CARWASH song is such a shit deafening remake; so much of shouting and screaming.
Secondly, Missy Elliot gets paid for sitting around in the studio (in her sweatpants) fidgeting with switches..pretending to look knowledgable with the equalisers.
What the hell did she rap??
5)DAVID HASSELHOLF (That Baywatch lifeguard..however you spell his name)
WHAT?????Did he SING????
6) EMINEM
I know a handful of you worship him as the god of sincerity, depth, honesty and blah blah. But his videos are just not funny anymore. Its lame to dress up as michael jackson and matadors.
Okay, I 've had too much of stupidity drummed into my puny brain. Time to turn off the telly and worry about the Arsenal match tonight.
Wednesday, January 26, 2005
SEX Education
Crooning on my STEREO: Chan Chan by BUENA VISTA SOCIAL CLUB
I don't care if you are underaged or overaged, as long as you don't try this at home or, rather... on your motorbike.
My friend sent me both this image and its text for a worthwhile comic relief.
Here's the descriptive text which follows (in white) and my commentary in (violet)
"This stationary position utilizes almost the entire length of the motorcycle. (okay...let's assume it as a fucking UNCOMFORTABLE 'bed') The easiest way to get into this position is for the woman to seat herself on the bike and lean forward so she is grasping the handlebars. (SO.... is the motorbike in motion?? Doesn't that induce a frigging sprain on her spinal cord?? Damn..LUST is DANGEROUS stuff....) If the bike is too long, or she's too short, she can wrap her arms around the gas tank.(WHAT??? DID YOU SAY GAS TANK???) The man, standing behind the bike, reaches on either side, picks up her legs, and extends them backward over the end of the motorcycle. (PHWOAR! You need to be a bloody agile acrobat to do this. Even a novice could break either one of her limbs)As he supports her back end by holding her legs up wheelbarrow style, he fucks her from behind.(Okayyyy.... so the guy happily screws her from behind, and poor girl hangs on to the rickety bike for dear life. What PASSIONATE lovemaking.)
This position can be a big turn on for both male and female motorcycle enthusiasts.(Sure, ask Valentino Rossi for more details.) The woman will get off from having almost full body contact with the bike and having her face pressed into the seat leather, while the guy will almost feel like he is fucking the bike itself."(End result: Girl is more likely to suffocate to death, courtesy of the 'seat leather.' Guy is better off fucking the bike's exhaust pipe as to avoid messy casualities........ hold on, do guys really do get aroused by automative vehicles?? )
What the hell... this is disturbing shit.
For more ridiculous sex positions, consult films by Tinto Brass
I don't care if you are underaged or overaged, as long as you don't try this at home or, rather... on your motorbike.
My friend sent me both this image and its text for a worthwhile comic relief.
Here's the descriptive text which follows (in white) and my commentary in (violet)
"This stationary position utilizes almost the entire length of the motorcycle. (okay...let's assume it as a fucking UNCOMFORTABLE 'bed') The easiest way to get into this position is for the woman to seat herself on the bike and lean forward so she is grasping the handlebars. (SO.... is the motorbike in motion?? Doesn't that induce a frigging sprain on her spinal cord?? Damn..LUST is DANGEROUS stuff....) If the bike is too long, or she's too short, she can wrap her arms around the gas tank.(WHAT??? DID YOU SAY GAS TANK???) The man, standing behind the bike, reaches on either side, picks up her legs, and extends them backward over the end of the motorcycle. (PHWOAR! You need to be a bloody agile acrobat to do this. Even a novice could break either one of her limbs)As he supports her back end by holding her legs up wheelbarrow style, he fucks her from behind.(Okayyyy.... so the guy happily screws her from behind, and poor girl hangs on to the rickety bike for dear life. What PASSIONATE lovemaking.)
This position can be a big turn on for both male and female motorcycle enthusiasts.(Sure, ask Valentino Rossi for more details.) The woman will get off from having almost full body contact with the bike and having her face pressed into the seat leather, while the guy will almost feel like he is fucking the bike itself."(End result: Girl is more likely to suffocate to death, courtesy of the 'seat leather.' Guy is better off fucking the bike's exhaust pipe as to avoid messy casualities........ hold on, do guys really do get aroused by automative vehicles?? )
What the hell... this is disturbing shit.
For more ridiculous sex positions, consult films by Tinto Brass
Saturday, January 22, 2005
St Paul's
Crooning on my STEREO: Don't Cry by GUNS N ROSES
St Paul's Cathedral on a sunny day.......
Lyn: *Knock Knock*
Priest: Who's there?
Lyn: Lyn
Priest: Lyn who?
Lyn: God knows.
Priest: My child.. thou shalt not blaspher.......
Lyn: Ask God... really, He knows me!
Priest: Hold On....
10 minutes later. Lyn is left out standing in the cold taking photos with her phone camera.
Priest: Oi, come here.
Lyn: Yes?
Priest: We are closed today.
Lyn: Whaaaaaatttt??????
Priest: Come back tommorrow.
Lyn: I thought that the House of God is open everyday??
Priest: This is St. Paul's, not house of God..
Lyn: So this is St. Paul's house?
Priest: No, he doesn't live here.
Lyn: Then? Just let me in I need to talk to God.
Priest: Sorry but we are closed today.....
Lyn: So can I speak to St Paul then? Maybe he can pass my message...
Priest: But sorry we are closed!!!
Security Guard: Whats the matter?
Lyn: Oh crap.... Ciao Ciao!!!!
(scurries off and later finds herself in some random St Bartholomew's cathedral..)
St Paul's Cathedral on a sunny day.......
Lyn: *Knock Knock*
Priest: Who's there?
Lyn: Lyn
Priest: Lyn who?
Lyn: God knows.
Priest: My child.. thou shalt not blaspher.......
Lyn: Ask God... really, He knows me!
Priest: Hold On....
10 minutes later. Lyn is left out standing in the cold taking photos with her phone camera.
Priest: Oi, come here.
Lyn: Yes?
Priest: We are closed today.
Lyn: Whaaaaaatttt??????
Priest: Come back tommorrow.
Lyn: I thought that the House of God is open everyday??
Priest: This is St. Paul's, not house of God..
Lyn: So this is St. Paul's house?
Priest: No, he doesn't live here.
Lyn: Then? Just let me in I need to talk to God.
Priest: Sorry but we are closed today.....
Lyn: So can I speak to St Paul then? Maybe he can pass my message...
Priest: But sorry we are closed!!!
Security Guard: Whats the matter?
Lyn: Oh crap.... Ciao Ciao!!!!
(scurries off and later finds herself in some random St Bartholomew's cathedral..)
Monday, November 01, 2004
RESIDENT EVIL Part 2
Crash course for those who don't know:
I live on the roof of an office block on Fitzroy Street, London. On my left is the Tube Station coveted with lots of drunk characters, 10 secs walk to Mac D's where townies in tracksuits gather, opposite a construction site flanked with cute sweaty immigrant builders, next to a cafe where lorry drivers assemble for lunch and there is a daily congestion of office smokers around the flat entrance puffing their lives away.
One thing to be proud of: I have a food disposal unit. And a spanking clean toilet.
----------------------------------UPDATES---------------------------------------
Council Tax has come knocking on my door and I have absolutely no idea what they were pressing on for. So I offered them Chocolate Swiss rolls to shut them up.
My American neighbour forgot his keys and was waiting in the cold for the landlord to open up his door. Being a kind Samaritan I invited him to pop over for refuge at my place. He said he will wait for a while and come up a bit later. Later, he was pressing my doorbell ten times but I left my music on at maximum. Ooops..
As a reknowned midday riser, I usually undertake the anonymous task of sorting out mails into flat pigeonholes. One day, as i was doing so, a Chinese student/neighbour walked in and glared suspiciously at me as though I was stealing letters. True enough, I was coincidentially holding a stack of Barclays and HSBC letters in my hands.. but shit, do I LOOK LIKE A THIEF????
Poor 7 yr old landlord's son (whose room is next to mine) has moved out of his bedroom. I don't think he liked Franz Ferdinand nor my hair dryer.
I slept through the fire drill again. Fire engines were gathered around the block and everyone has vacated their flats.
Except me.
Something is rotting in my kitchen. I can't figure out what it is. Must be the grapes, cheese, pate and chicken bones I left in the bin since last week.
I live on the roof of an office block on Fitzroy Street, London. On my left is the Tube Station coveted with lots of drunk characters, 10 secs walk to Mac D's where townies in tracksuits gather, opposite a construction site flanked with cute sweaty immigrant builders, next to a cafe where lorry drivers assemble for lunch and there is a daily congestion of office smokers around the flat entrance puffing their lives away.
One thing to be proud of: I have a food disposal unit. And a spanking clean toilet.
----------------------------------UPDATES---------------------------------------
Council Tax has come knocking on my door and I have absolutely no idea what they were pressing on for. So I offered them Chocolate Swiss rolls to shut them up.
My American neighbour forgot his keys and was waiting in the cold for the landlord to open up his door. Being a kind Samaritan I invited him to pop over for refuge at my place. He said he will wait for a while and come up a bit later. Later, he was pressing my doorbell ten times but I left my music on at maximum. Ooops..
As a reknowned midday riser, I usually undertake the anonymous task of sorting out mails into flat pigeonholes. One day, as i was doing so, a Chinese student/neighbour walked in and glared suspiciously at me as though I was stealing letters. True enough, I was coincidentially holding a stack of Barclays and HSBC letters in my hands.. but shit, do I LOOK LIKE A THIEF????
Poor 7 yr old landlord's son (whose room is next to mine) has moved out of his bedroom. I don't think he liked Franz Ferdinand nor my hair dryer.
I slept through the fire drill again. Fire engines were gathered around the block and everyone has vacated their flats.
Except me.
Something is rotting in my kitchen. I can't figure out what it is. Must be the grapes, cheese, pate and chicken bones I left in the bin since last week.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)