Tuesday, June 21, 2005
Bad Moments of the Day:-
I awoke this morning at 4 AM with a thoroughly whammed Jerome loudly announcing that he didn't like my CDs so he had put them in the toaster.
The bank charged me 60 quid for account naughtiness at 8 o'clock.
I Lost 6 months worth of site work by 12.
Worked in the pub at lunch time with well pretended good humour til 3.
Drank a bottle of wine, began to whine, then had another (its now 6)
Am missing the Simpsons.
Have to work in the pub this evening til 12.
And the worst thing about the day is that Jerome is back in 2 weeks.
I awoke this morning at 4 AM with a thoroughly whammed Jerome loudly announcing that he didn't like my CDs so he had put them in the toaster.
The bank charged me 60 quid for account naughtiness at 8 o'clock.
I Lost 6 months worth of site work by 12.
Worked in the pub at lunch time with well pretended good humour til 3.
Drank a bottle of wine, began to whine, then had another (its now 6)
Am missing the Simpsons.
Have to work in the pub this evening til 12.
And the worst thing about the day is that Jerome is back in 2 weeks.
Wednesday, June 08, 2005
Rant of the Day:-
I have been momentarilly, monumentally and misguidedly displeased about a number of things this month. from selling the Crazy Frog to a vivisectionist to selling dear Cherie Blair to a vivisectionist, until I realised that they are one and the same.
I have forgotten much of my vitriollic spleen but apologise to those who had the misfortune to be near the gibber.
Song Lyric of the Day:-
...Pile up all those History books
But don't throw them away,
Cos they just might have a clue,
About what it really means,
to be an Anglo hyphon Saxon
In England dot co dot uk
Gibber of the Day:-
I like to think of my mind as a Victorian brick walled garden.
Picture the scene (stop reading now if you're scared). I'm drunk but stay with me if you can cope.
There is a white painted cast iron gate in the south wall (my mouth) out of which the garden waste is taken to become conversation compost.
The garden is rectangular and divided into 4 quarters by grass paths and there is a narrow border around the outside, along the internal wall. Against the wall are espalliared (fanned out) apple, pear and plum trees.In the border, between the trees, are loganberries, raspberries and strawberries. These fruits represent my alchohol intake and surround the 4 main plant / thought beds, cushioning them from turbulent weather outside.
The Main borders -
The North West bed
This bed contains the memories. The solid root vegetables of life. Buried deep into the earth these are the staple of a good garden. From the potatoes of comic incidents to the sprouts of blushing shame, this bed is rich with life but with suprising gaps. Sprouts arent a root veg I know but they seemed appropriate here.
The North East bed
Paranoia guilt and shame nestle here in the guise of beetroot, but are intersersed with rows of carrots (pragmatism) and spinach (resignedness) which along with the negative elements give colour to the table / life.
The South East bed
This is where the runner beans live. Runner beans are dreams. They climb the canes of ambition, sometimes blighted by the frost, but occassionally they flower and bear fruit. The broad beans and leeks are here too, Stick those little chaps into the pot and you will get a good flavour.....I don't know what that bit was about either. This is the bed of hope.
The South West bed
This is the test bed. All the things I want to try, or want to be good at are here, some things go well such as the marrow (rugby) although this is getting too mature now and may need to be stopped. Other things like things like the asparagus (money) just don't grow right, I've tried to burn it but it just comes back to haunt me.
Fortunately around the outside, and growing well in frames and greenhouses safe and well, are everyone and everything else.
Did I mention that I'd been drinking?
My homebrew crabapple wine is very good by the ay
Love and hugs
Dan
I have been momentarilly, monumentally and misguidedly displeased about a number of things this month. from selling the Crazy Frog to a vivisectionist to selling dear Cherie Blair to a vivisectionist, until I realised that they are one and the same.
I have forgotten much of my vitriollic spleen but apologise to those who had the misfortune to be near the gibber.
Song Lyric of the Day:-
...Pile up all those History books
But don't throw them away,
Cos they just might have a clue,
About what it really means,
to be an Anglo hyphon Saxon
In England dot co dot uk
Gibber of the Day:-
I like to think of my mind as a Victorian brick walled garden.
Picture the scene (stop reading now if you're scared). I'm drunk but stay with me if you can cope.
There is a white painted cast iron gate in the south wall (my mouth) out of which the garden waste is taken to become conversation compost.
The garden is rectangular and divided into 4 quarters by grass paths and there is a narrow border around the outside, along the internal wall. Against the wall are espalliared (fanned out) apple, pear and plum trees.In the border, between the trees, are loganberries, raspberries and strawberries. These fruits represent my alchohol intake and surround the 4 main plant / thought beds, cushioning them from turbulent weather outside.
The Main borders -
The North West bed
This bed contains the memories. The solid root vegetables of life. Buried deep into the earth these are the staple of a good garden. From the potatoes of comic incidents to the sprouts of blushing shame, this bed is rich with life but with suprising gaps. Sprouts arent a root veg I know but they seemed appropriate here.
The North East bed
Paranoia guilt and shame nestle here in the guise of beetroot, but are intersersed with rows of carrots (pragmatism) and spinach (resignedness) which along with the negative elements give colour to the table / life.
The South East bed
This is where the runner beans live. Runner beans are dreams. They climb the canes of ambition, sometimes blighted by the frost, but occassionally they flower and bear fruit. The broad beans and leeks are here too, Stick those little chaps into the pot and you will get a good flavour.....I don't know what that bit was about either. This is the bed of hope.
The South West bed
This is the test bed. All the things I want to try, or want to be good at are here, some things go well such as the marrow (rugby) although this is getting too mature now and may need to be stopped. Other things like things like the asparagus (money) just don't grow right, I've tried to burn it but it just comes back to haunt me.
Fortunately around the outside, and growing well in frames and greenhouses safe and well, are everyone and everything else.
Did I mention that I'd been drinking?
My homebrew crabapple wine is very good by the ay
Love and hugs
Dan
