New to the site? Delve into the archive Information about me List of collected quotations My poetry sites Other links: The ineffable Michelle Infinite Fish The Echelon Project The 80s (my era) Move to Mars See Ann Widdecombe dance Think I complain a lot? The Yarn |
Wednesday 19.12.01 Peaceful day, spent mostly working and then a long walk around Bloomsbury and Soho, which was lovely. Now sitting here, pondering whether or not I should go off on one about how Rebekah Wade, editor-bitch of the News of the World should be deported for being a meddling cow. Oops, I just have. Silly me... On the subject of site redesign, I'm looking at various things I'd like to link to. I discovered FirePhotos.com this morning. It's got a nice, flashy introduction, but the site is unimpressive. I think I liked it at first because it reminded me of the fantastic Sylvia Plath poem called 'Aftermath.' But other than that, I don't buy the justification for putting lots of photos of infernos on the web. There's also this which just had to go on somewhere. I think it says a lot about our friends over the pond, especially those who blatantly have too much time on their hands... Thursday 20.12.01 I am also more than tempted to put a permanent link on the left to The Traffic-Cone Preservation Society but I think it might be pushing things just that little bit too far... Friday 21.12.01 Right, time to pack and go home, but not before I've run round both Oxford Circus and Piccadilly Circus in a mad, last-minute Christmas-present-shopping-brawl. I also failed my mission to *finish* the damn shopping before getting home; this means I'm going to have to brave the shops on Christmas eve near where I live. Yippee. I took Jess to see 'The 51st State' last night. This was...reasonable, but nothing stunning. I suppose you could give it credit for the fact that it really didn't claim to be anything more than it was - a trashy action thriller. But I have seen better. Sunday 23.12.01 My mother made the unfortunate mistake last night of watching 'Good Will Hunting.' She then made the even greater blunder this morning of telling me about it in just a little too much detail: 'I mean, not only did I not understand the plot, but there's so much swearing! Fucking this, fuck that... Don't get me wrong, Mark, I like a good fuck every now and then myself, as you know, but really.' At this point, having just got up, I recoiled in horror into the shower. The joys of living at home. Monday 24.12.01 I despise wrapping presents. I end up warping them instead. Tuesday 25.10.01 Sitting, having parked my hugely distended stomach on the table, emitting quiet burps and mildly worried noises at the imminent possibility of said stomach exploding. I can't decide whether I feel bloated or just over-satisfied; I already know, however, that a strict diet is starting tomorrow. God only knows how I've managed to eat as much as I have (by rights various bits of me should be liberally distributed around Harrow by now, like a Zeppelin that has burst) but I know it has to stop. Hope you, wherever you are, are sharing in the joy, the music, the warmth, the laughter. Merry Christmas to you all. :-) |
