Folle

Okay, so we remember crazy guy from work who had a tendency to leave random messages on my FB wall when inebriated? Well, as a catch up I offended him massively the last time we went out and he unfriended me. It came more as a relief than anything to be honest (and to answer the question EVERYONE has asked me since he has done it, no. I didn't get a message telling me. He poked me and I left it and his name suddenly became blacked out. So unfriend away. Just make sure you don't poke them beforehand). As a brief resumé as to what exactly I did,

Him: Tell me what you think of me, honestly

Me: Really?

Him: Yeah! (I suspect he was hoping I'd declare him beautiful and the man I've been waiting for all my life)

Me: Okay, I think you're a desperately unhappy person who needs to drink less

Needless to say, it didn't go down well. It is brutally honest and perhaps I was a little too brutal but you know, ask me a question and you'll get an honest reply (especially if there is a gin in the vicinity). 

So I got on the bus today to go to work and there he was. Sat there. Depressed (did I mention he shaved his head the same weekend I told him he was desperately unhappy? I'm trying not to think they're linked although the joke at work was I pushed a man who was on the edge over it. Properly. Totally.). He waves at me so I feel obliged to go and sit with him when all I really want to do is listen to my ipod and catch up on where the embryo debate is at. Uplifting I know. I'm not too sure where this is going to go. As far as I knew I was out of the fold, unceremoniously thrown away, like the white, honest trash that I am. Desperately scrabbling around for something to say I begin to regale him of the current work gossip. It mainly consists of new people being employed and being paid a lot more than other people who work there already. Off the cuff, shooting from the hip guerilla style prose. I mention in passing that I've advised my favourites to hand in their notice. Go for the bluff. Say you've got a new job. Tell them it'll pay £30k a year + benefits + company car. See if they'll offer you a pay rise. He goes a little bit crazy and uses various words such as disgrace and despicable. I throw in the word abomination for the craic. He vigorously shakes his head in agreement. Finally we get in to work and I sit down to begin a day of furious internet action, maybe with the odd bit of work thrown in, post 11am of course. About mid morning I receive an email from him. 

He has handed in his notice. He hasn't got another job lined up. It may well be all my fault. I may be dead on the inside but this news cuts deep. On the upside, it has provided much hilarity for my whole department. Apparently tomorrow I'm to tell him to throw himself off the roof to see what happens...

Whilst not wrecking people's lives I've been out and about like a very busy bee. I managed to finally see Lars and the Real Girl. I've been desperate to see it since Christmas as the trailer convinced me it was right up my street. I wasn't wrong. I think I built it up so much in my head though that I didn't think it was the greatest thing ever. However, it was a really good film which I intend to buy as soon as it is out on DVD. 

I think maybe one of the reasons I didn't fall in love with it on first viewing is it got me thinking about things that I tend to bury my head in the sand about. It has become clear to me that if I think about things too much I over analyse them to the nth degree and end up coming to conclusions that are quite frankly, ludicrous. It also occurred to me that 95% of the people that I count as really close friends are all in couples. It means I have to think of two people as one entity even if I'm not gone on their other halves. I'm not overly concerned about the situation as I know for a fact that until recently I wouldn't have been able to handle some sort of normal relationship (if there is even such a thing) as the toxic boyfriend that I got rid of did such a good job at trying to convince me that I wasn't worthy of being anyone's girlfriend. When I did finally get rid I remember everyone telling me how proud they were that I finally expelled the bum from my life. I think what I'm most proud of is the fact that I not only managed to get over him but dust myself down and get on with life and find out, on my own, that I'm great. Don't get me wrong, there is still some residue left over from his venom but life is looking up. Which can only be a good thing.

I was also convinced to go and see The Orphanage. Me and scary films do not go together. I am jumpy and a bit of a worrier hence I spent the last third of the film hiding behind my scarf turned in towards my friends. It is, however, superb. Definitely my favourite film of the year so far and depending on how the year goes may be a contender for film of the year. That's right. Controversial. Out on a limb. Don't say I don't live life on the edge. The first scene is possibly the most sublime piece of cinematography I have seen in a long time and it isn't just scary for scary sake but also has an excellent story line. It is also one of the most tragic things I have seen in ages. When we came out of the cinema everyone had to have a fag and a bit of quiet time to digest what we'd seen. I really can't recommend it highly enough.

I've managed to get my hands on the Foals and Crystal Castles albums as well. All the boys are wetting themselves about the albums so I thought I'd get in on some pant wetting action. As expected, they are silly good. Some Crystal Castles reminds me of a calmer Alec Empire without the arm slashing on stage. Fingers crossed I'll get to go and see them in Bright Town when they play. If not, I'll probably chuck some sort of strop. 

And finally, I've made some sort of an effort to clean up this page. As much as I love that David LaChapelle photo of Izzy Blow, it had to go (look at me, I'm a rapper!). It looked a bit odd. I've also added a few links that amuse me. I'll probably add more but you know, less is more and I want them to be all gold. Watch out for that Bunnyboy though. I hear he is a right cun.......

Je suis desolée

It is accomplished. I have finally finished watching all of My So Called Life. I think it's the biggest commitment I've made since, um, ever.

Crashing on. I realise that I've been totally rubbish and not really updated in a while. To be honest my Christmas and New Year were far too epic to even begin going in to in any depth so I'll give you a few token highlights....cos I'm nice like that. 

The main highlight was my Morgan Spurlock-esque, 30 days, Super Size Me, type alcohol fueled holiday season. I went from the 21st and managed til the 4th until things all got a bit too much and the constant taste of dirty shish kebab in my mouth made me want to vomit a little bit. Ah well. In order to fully complete the Morgan Spurlock experience it's only right I let you know what my conclusions were:

• Surviving on one meal a day which consists of either, chicken and chips, shish kebabs or burgers, eaten at 4am is NOT a healthy or balanced diet. Also, you tend to forget you've eaten.
• Drinking gin causes you to sin. 
• Waking up in the morning, still drunk and then trying to do normal things with sober people is really quite fun.
• You're marvelously witty when you're drunk. 

So there you go. Bet none of you knew the above did you? No. That's right. You didn't.

One day, not too long ago someone once asked me, "What sort of freaks do you go out with?". This was after I'd disclosed that through the wonders of Facebook (or as I like to refer to it - the instrument of the Devil) I'd found out that one of my ex's is now an Elvis impersonator. I know. Fucking awful. It was a question that I pondered for about, oooooh  5 seconds, before I carried on drinking and being merry. However, this question came back to haunt me over Christmas.

Christmas Eve eve - I go to the pub with my sister and I was at the bar when some guy asks if he can buy me a drink. Of course, I accept (remember, this was in my Super Size Me phase. If they asked me if I wanted a double I HAD to say yes). He then starts chatting (shit at me) me up. He tells me his name is Daryl. Yes. It IS as bad as it sounds. It really is all rather dull and I'm not even sure why I spoke to him in the first place at this point. I give him a fake number (changed the last 2 digits around. ALWAYS a winner. Although he was convinced it was a fake number as it has lots of 7's and 9's in it and things. Work that one out stalkers) and made my escape.

Christmas Eve - go back to the pub for some pre midnight mass cheeky binge drinking. As an aside, never been to a better mass (not to sound all Mrs Doyle on you or anything). They gave out FREE fair trade chocolate at the end AND it only hit the 45 min barrier. I'll be going back there again. However, I digress. As usual. So. There was a theme in the pub cos it was Christmas Eve. The theme was come as your favourite film star. So I'm wandering around the pub bumping in to Marilyn and Uma when I bump in to Samuel L Jackson. Or Daryl. I know what you're all thinking. This Daryl must have been a pretty cool black guy with a fondness for Kangol hats. Well. You'd be wrong. He was white. I bet I know what you're thinking now. But....Samuel is......black. Yup. Correct. So.....how did Daryl???? 

He put shoe polish on his face. 

If it wasn't so fucking ridiculous it'd be offensive. Honestly. What a catch.

And, finally. I went to Brighton over the course of the holidays also. We were getting ready to go out to a club night called Stick It On. The night itself isn't important for the purpose of the story. We're sitting around in the kitchen, drinking, chatting etc. One of the guys with us has a beautiful baby boy with a very nice lady and his robust sperm has managed to put another baby in her. Owing to this she is always at home with her feet up whilst he comes out with all his expensive digital toys. I was half listening to a story, half day dreaming when I heard someone say to him, "So, you haven't brought the Mother Bitch out with you tonight?". Hearing that I snapped out of my day dream and said to him, "Oh God. How far along is she now?". With that the room went deathly silent and everyone collapsed in to hysterics except him. Turns out they weren't talking about his girlfriend at all. They were talking about his digital SLR camera. Hoom.

From that quote alone I was a legend for the rest of the night. Other choice quotes which I feel I should really tell you about (I can not say that I said all of them but I will not reveal the speakers) are:

"A finger in the arse is always welcome"

"As I believe GlassJaw once said, I might just fuck you enough to love you"

"Oh my God you look like you should be in Kids or something"

And on that note I think I'll leave. I'm sure I'll have some ridiculous tale soon enough as it is my work Christmas party tomorrow. Yes that's right. You've not read the date wrong. Christmas party - 11th January. Good one. AND the theme is the Oscars ergo it is black tie so I had to suffer the indignity this evening of checking if my corset still fits (it does) in order to attempt to try and wear some sort of black tie esque outfit without actually looking like a complete toss piece. On the upside - free bar. It could get messy...