..I'm going to marry a kebab when I grow up. [entries|friends|calendar] kellahdot [ userinfo | livejournal userinfo ] [ calendar | livejournal calendar ]

(to choke upon) [30 May 2009|03:25pm] [ mood | happy dog ] [ music | fa cup. ] His name is Farooq. I got him for my 24th birthday as apparently all are aware of my level of maturity. Ontop of the BARBIE card...I also got "Happy Dog Sad Dog" by Sam Lloyd. A brilliant book with a plot line so complex it needs a multitude of characters. Such as: I hope it will serve to teach me all about the differences in the world. Yet to see the parents, so...maybe they'll push me more towards acting 24 with grown-up gifts. (ugh 24. I was 16 once dammit!) In the real, mature and grown-up news: - I've just finished my last essay of the year. It's not due in til Monday but...technically I've finished year2uni NOW so....huzzah! - I signed for a new flat a coupla weeks ago. Move in next Monday (8th) and I can't wait. It's in a gated little community thing with massive communal gardens that have hills and tons of trees. We have a big balcony, too. It's just overall very pretty. But! I'm mostly looking forward to: having cooking facilities, having hot water, having curtains, being able to open my window, cleanliness and a mould free environment. Fuck Fallowfield. I may still be a student but I refuse to still live like this. Trinity Riverside ahoy! ....that's not really a lot of grown up news, is it? HAPPY DOG SAD DOG \M/

(4 words | to choke upon) [26 Jan 2009|02:28pm] [ mood | content ] I did do a massive update about the hospital and that, but then my internet cable fell out. but I kept writing cause I figured I'd just reconnect to post. But then my laptop battery fell out 0.o so I lost it and bla bla bla I'm only still updating as a record to myself cause it'd seem proper sad to not have a document of stuff after over 7 years. I wouldn't be able to think "hmm, what was I doing [insert number] years ago today? to livejournal!" anymore and that'd be gay. Hospital was gay too. Neurology wards - with its patients who scream through the night and intoxicate your air with another defecation-on-bed session at all hours of the morning - are not for the feint hearted. I met some characters though and was moved into a private room before treatment started so...eh. Chemo was horrid. Recovery was up and down. Normal service is resumed. That's that, yo. That was only the first dose of three, though. Back in for another bout of treatment for the next two consecutive Decembers. And I have to have a blood test every month inbetween. But that still beats the blood test every day in hospital. And the two cannulas. One in hand, one in wrist - boo! So at the end of treatment that'll be 51 blood samples and 5 cannula insertions. Bloody good job I aint too bad with needles. nah, i am quite bad with needles. don't let the ridiculous amount of tattoos fool you. tattooists dont dig quite so deep or drain your blood or leave their needle in for a week at a time. yuuuurgh. ANYWAY. Things be okay. My little chest is puffed out because I wrote an essay the week after I came out of hospital, when I was flat on my arse, covered in a weird rash and running a high temperature. Just got the grade back and I somehow managed to pull a 1st out of my hat. Some people aren't handing work in by the deadlines, and then when they do they fail. One girl left because she just couldn't be arsed. Another because her daddys so rich she don't need no degree. One got told to by a psychic and so...did? Another got up the duff and moved to Devon with her boyfriend of all of 4 months. And another is pregnant but still foolishly clinging to her hopes of going into music law. Yeaaah, right. But I'm on my fourth 1st now, and the rest are 2:1s (okay, there were two 2:2s but shh) SO FUCK YOU, LOSERS. ChemoKel for the win. I keep getting told by my tutors to stop pushing so hard and take as long as I like - but I'm gettig a bit of a kick out of achieving through circumstance. I've nearly finished my Music&Culture essay on the history of Japanese Rock....half way through my Music Law assignment and then I've got one more week before deadline to knock out the 7day hypothetical tour plan with contracts...safe. The only thing suffering is my work experience. But come on. I'm in Liverpool. That's in Manchester. I aint superwoman. Being in Liverpool's been alright. I've put on 4lbs which I'm not happy about. I was quite liking teetering in the underweight category...but all this having food wot I don't have to finance is criminal. I've developed addictions for porridge made with water, tuna baked potatos, bananas with natural yoghurt and rice cakes. NOM! Happyhappy things - I'm going back to Brighton, baby. Patrick is of the mentally infirm persuasion and for some reason unknown to sanity has booked for us to go to Brighton - for his birthday...with his money...*shrug* I'm not going to argue. Brighton? In February? Violent seas and cold beaches? For free? Thankyou very much, dear. Then we found out Little Shop of Horrors is on at the Royal Theatre the week that we're there. So even though he hates musicals, and I love musicals - especially Little Shop - we've booked tickets for THAT, too. Is it my birthday or his? Brighton and musicals just sort of screams of Kel....not Paddy. I need to get him a superboss present, but I don't know whaaaaat. THEN he's just booked Circus of Horrors in Manchester for Valentines Day (2 days before Brighton) ...Probably going to be off my tits that week. Belter. I am concerned he's spending his share of the deposit for the house though. But I think we both needed a big blow out. Been stress, been stress. And I've spent a hell of a lot going out in Liverpool getting wankered all the time to relieve my stress so...swings and rounds, like.

(3 words | to choke upon) [05 Dec 2008|02:18pm] [ mood | bouncy ] right...let's be 'aving it then : a happy entry to combat THE YEAR OF WHINGING I'VE DONE. (nah seriously...it's proper depressing looking over my lj. it's like "happy happy joy JOY...october 2007:DOOOOOOOOOM for the foreseeable." ...i do apologise.) i'm actually in a fucking amazing mood...and have been for a few weeks now. paddy reckons it's cause i'm feeling excited that me life's about to change, like. weeeeeeeee etc etc. let's do elongated bullet points, it'll be fun. - mona (german ex) emailed me a while ago now. 2 months or so back. it knocked me for six, really. i mean we were getting on amazingly then exploded just over 2 years ago in probably the most distubing of ways. i mistreated her, she mistreated me twice as hard to get me back and it was proper ming. anyway, she emailed asking for my forgiveness and it shocked me so much that i was just like "yeah alright, i forgive you, sure." ...then once i'd come to my senses, i sent her a big WTF?! email and we got talking. it was a bit icy and weird at first...still feels weird, but not as cold. and monas mum has quite severe MS so...we've been talking about self injecting drugs and chemo and all the positive results and stuff. it's just SO NICE talking to someone who has some sort of comprehension about living like this. i think the closest you can get to knowing what it's like is to have a parent or child with MS...so mona's a brilliant port of call. just a pity there's still so much left unsaid between us. i don't want to put her through talking about us back then, though. she seems too contented. - went to see ed byrne with the p to the addy. it was good times.. it was in the dancehall theatre, which i've passed everytime i've ever been in manchester and every day since i've lived here and never actually known it was a proper venue. well. i say "proper". it's had a logo that has "temporary sign" written under it for the last 5 years and i've performed on bigger, more professional looking stages. :/ poor ed. but y'know...to be fair...everyone i told i were going seeing ed byrne was like "you who now?" ugh. i nearly forgot...the sound/lighting engineer at the back was CRAP. i don't know if it's just because i've done live sound engineering and maybe noone else noticed...but he made error after error. ..everyone cottoned his lighing error though when ed had to stop midshow and say "can we have the lights back to 15% again? you know...LIKE WE DID IN THE REHERSAL." it was bare jokes, (well. obviously. it was a standup show.) ..the show was all about the different classes...which....coupled with the recent devouring of lotsa jeremey clarkson books slagging off wilmslow and yuppies.... has made me rather proud to be scum. best bit of the whole show (sorry ed) was when we went to leave. ..because there was a mad crushing throng of people on the stairs, we slipped out the back exit that the doorman had alerted me to 'cause he noticed me struggling on the staircase on the way in. half way down the stairs, this awful rude excuse of a middle aged man cornered us and told us, not asked, TOLD us to get off the stair case. i was done in from the stairs i'd already tackled, so, i politley and with use of the word 'please' requested a moment to regain myself on the stair case before leaving. "NO." he said. and then started reeling off reasons for how we were bad people, with his voice dripping venom. so i just turned on my heels and said "you could at least speak to me properly." to which he looked stunned. so i said "i'm starting to feel a little attacked, here." he was still snarling during the remainder of the conversation, the details of which i've forgotten but i explained the other stair case was rammed with people, and i enquired about a lift...which he begrudgingly lead us to, telling us the whole way that it was rickety and i'd be better off just dealing with the stairs like everyone else. i remember locking him dead in the eyes and just calmly saying "i'd simply like to use your lift please." and he sighed, rolled his eyes and asked "what's wrong? you've hurt your leg or something?" "no," i said, "i'm cripplingly disabled" and oh how his demeanour changed. he even smiled and held the door open for me and started laughing as he explained how people are always sneaking onto those pesky back stairs. i smiled sarcasticly and faux sympathised of his stressful job. as we left the venue, paddy just burried his head in my neck and sniggered out an "i fucking love you." and with that we stumbled down oxford road in hysterics and bought a copy of private eye. aaahhh hislop. - I SAW THE FUCKING FAINT. THE FAINT. THE FUCKING FAINT. mmm. it was a bit immense, it was. the night started off in The Bank - a pub which die and si kindly introduced me to a while ago - where i met paddy, chris, hannah and 'other' chris. we kind of only bought one pint of coke between all of us and 'other' chris & hannah were cheekily eating a packed lunch under the table. then i stole a wooden spoon that had been painted green. simply because it interested me. The Bank are never going to want us back. although the barman did exclaim to paddy that i was "beautiful, mate"..haha. i think paddy's starting to love the compliments i get more than i do. we bumped into a woman he calls his second mum in a greasy spoon a couple of weeks ago and she told him he'd done well for himself there, then his brother said the same last week. hilarious. i'm so vain. the thieving continued on the walk to the venue (academy 3 - so tinytinysmall!) as we passed krispykreme and i spotted a boquet of krispykreme balloons in a promotional display. so paddy ran in, yanked a balloon out and ran out before the poor service girl could even blink. :D yay balloooon. although when we got to the venue the bouncer just took one look at me, laughed and said "leave it in the cloakroom, girl." walked inside and some guy with a pro camera informed me he was doing a website about fashion and asked if he could interview me and take a few pictures. which he did. oooh what an egoooo. hannah had been going on about wanting to make it for the support act, ulterior, because they were apparently really good. imagine towers of london on a bad day, then multiply it by the power of axl rose. ugh. as soon as they walked on stage they were just dripping with this unneccessary attitude. all torn off sleeves, battered denim, bleach blonde 80s hair and snarled lips. they made my skin crawl before they even made a sound.....and making sounds was severely delayed by them having not correctly prepared themselves. the poor roadie grumbled and stormed through the crowd to the stage to help them as they milled around looking hapless and swigging beer from bottles. they're so hard, they're so cool. they don't even need to be nice to be liked. they're just that cool, ulterior (!) anyway, they started. and to be fair the music wasn't that bad. and i do mean the MUSIC, as the vocals and lyrical cotent were abhorrent. after the first leering sneering cliche song was over...they asked "you like that?" in their donny tourette rip-off way and some poor fucking girl, some silly little thing who clearly didn't have the balls to back up her conviction shouted "NO!" now...i dislike hecklers as much as the next person. i think every artist should be allowed to perform under a cloud of quiet respect if you dont like their shit....but the back lash that poor fucking girl got. christ. i've never seen or heard ANYTHING like it. she was instantly a cunt. a whore. a little slag. and every other vile unimagianative insult you've heard 5,000 times before. then the best bit..."all you want is some fucking 'dumf dumf dumf' dance music. we're the fucking future love." i was just about to fill my lungs and spew back in their faces everything about being 70s throwbacks who'd just emerged from a time machine to SUPPORT A FUCKING DANCEY BAND with their regurgetated drivel ..when paddy grabbed my arm and whispered "shall we just leave?" so we did. and as we did, we passed the girl who'd made the original shout. howling with tears and shaking as her boyfriend tried to console her. my stomach flipped with about 50 times more rage and a smoke was needed to relax again. by the time we got back inside, hannah was lingering at the doorway to tell us how ulterior had had to leave the stage early as they'd blown something by trying to crank the volume above level. twats. the faint were boss. i. yeah. apparently i got a bit lost in my (against the wall) dancing. can't help it, the faint are sexy. the set list was fantastic. opened with agenda suicide - played everything i love, and very few of the new album which i dont love - ended on glass danse. perfection. there's not really alot to say about it....because it was sort if like, having a live album played in a venue so you can get sweaty to it. there wasn't really any alteration of the songs, no crowd interaction or anything...some AMAZING dancing and hip wrything from all involved though. well done, boys. oh and some fantastic aviation goggles. at the end keyboard player, i'm so bad for not knowing names, said "what did you think of ulterior?" and after the loudest roar of a BOO! i've ever heard in my life from the crowd, he just said..."sorry." manchester was the first date ulterior supported. i googled around a few days later and ulterior have been removed from the tour and will not be playing any remaining gigs with the faint. GOOD. uhm..i've done other things but this is getting stupidly long. been out to the christmas market with david and amanda, that was niiice and just...charmingly seasonal, haha. got amused and abused by a drunk man outside th'pub. caught up avec die in manc and met some of her lovely lj friends for a beverage. got a strange phonecall from vicky (stalkergirl.) had some nice moments with my housemates. god, i've been so depressive i havent even said owt about my housemates. next update i shall waffle about the lulz they bring. there are many. i go into hospital on monday so....in a bit, kids.

(8 words | to choke upon) [10 Nov 2008|11:51am] [ music | oingo boingo - little girls ] I'm so CROSS. I like being CROSS more than ANNOYED because it makes me sound more middle class. I'm CROSS and I play LACROSSE. No but seriously, the world's doing my (steadily growing) tits in. Not in a personalised low-scale way, either...I'm chatting full on society rage. I shook my head in disbelief during the lynching of Jonny Woss and Russell BGrand at the hands of a suddenly sexually abashed Satanic Slut. I rolled my eyes when they tied Clarkson to the whipping post for stating FACT. "how dare you say truckers kill hookers! don't you know that the Ipswich prozzie killer used to be a lorry driver?!" "Yes. That's why I used it to form the basis of a small and mildly amusing quip. Nowfuckoff." But this latest one. This is getting my frilly knickers in a knot. People are up in arms that Gary Glitter appeared as suggested listening on a piece of GCSE music coursework. I think this is the numbest quote I've ever seen. "Boys and girls of 15 or 16 who select this song will go straight to the internet to find Glitter's music. I dread to think what they may find searching online for him." NOT KIDDIE PORN, THAT'S FOR SURE. Probably some information in a news report style-eee that affirms with tabloid disgust the wrongness of paedoism thus teaching those of age that touching kidz is bad mmmkay. So, like. This made me think....about how there'll be a boycott on his MUSIC now...about how you'll never hear My Gang on a rubbish tv advert, or see that silver sparkly all in one on Top of The Plops 2 on a Sunday evening ever again. No great loss. But I will see Amy Winehouse live in concert on telly ...and I doubt anyone would campaign to have The Beatles removed from suggested GCSE listening. I'm not trying to say drug abuse is on an equal level with child abuse, but you get my point. I just don't think an artists' lifestyle should impact on the social acceptance or importance of their art - because they're two completley different things. The artist and the art, I mean. It was Mr. Gadd who committed crime, not Gary Glitter. That should put it clearly enough. It's Glitter's music that had relevance in educating our budding musicians - not his sex life. Noone's suggested that you need to research Glitter's private life or paedos to pass your GCSE's. His songs aren't graphic about sex, let alone sex with kids. Yet it's bad for his MUSIC to be included in GCSE papers. Shakespear's plays involve incest, drug abuse, suicide and murder......but that's okay for the kidz, cause it's only made-up. WHAT? I don't get it. I'm off to listen to Gary Glitter, Amy Winehouse and Marilyn Manson covering The Beatles....should lead me into a fucking interesting day of drugs and debauchery. (well. in reality I'm listening to Danny Elfman singing about sex with little girls and the disturbing use of a one way mirror - OH NOES.)

(2 words | to choke upon) [15 Sep 2008|08:45am] [ mood | in anticipation of j. kyle ] iiii have a new hamster her name is scaramoosh people are being all proper keep calling her scaramouche but this is WRONG! because iiii have a new hamster and her name is scaramoosh. see...i was going to call her 'krishnan guru murthy', but everyone said that was too long. then suggesting 'gordon burns' sent ewan off on a tale about his mate 'burnsie' and home made porn which quickly ruled the name out. then me, sam and ewan were sitting round listening to flight of the concordes - so then we were going to call her 'mr. mukubu' (which could only be said in a baritone thick african accent). 'gustav' was suggested next - until my mum frantically warned me that if the hurricane did kill squillions of people i'd never forgive myself. then i flopped on my bed and hamsterX was scurrying round, investigating my ribcage and seeing if she could wedge herself under it. scurryscurryscurry eventually she found her way into the crook of my neck, wrapped up in my hair - and there she stayed for about 30mins while i pulled squee faces and took pictures on my phone. moooooosh! scurrymoosh.....scaramooosh :) she's not really anything like yoshimitsu. she's a dwarf, too...but doesn't do the crazy running in circles thing. infact she doesn't do much running at all. she LOVES bed. i took a video on my phone yesterday as she stole a whole bogroll, tore it into shreds and stuffed it into her already MASSIVE BED. seriously, she's even moved half the hay from the rest of the cage in there with her. i've had her a few weeks and i've never seen her eat. never seen her drink. just seen her carefully constructing and lounging in her bed. whenever you want scaramoosh, she'll be in bed. unless it's 5am this morning...in which case, she'll be keeping me awake: yeah, alright...this is like the least exciting thing that's happened in the three months since i updated but...HAMSTER! back to uni on monday....shiiiiiiiiiiiiit.

(4 words | to choke upon) [09 Jun 2008|06:03pm] I. That is me. I, me, the one, I, Miss Kel. I. Have finished first year of university. Now, to those of you who have already graduated - some of you many, many years ago - this may seem like no great achievement at all. But it was, as is the dog from Eastenders, well'ard. And I celebrated by riding a big fish. So fuck you. I also had apple and gooseberry crumble in an expensive bar. Discovered that "three tomato salad" is exactly that - a salad of three types of tomato. Accidentally stuck my whole foot in a pond. Bruised myself on a childs adventure playground. Got driven into a country park by a lost and confused rail-replacement-bus driver. Watched bits of the rail-replacement-bus fall off as we tried to get back out. Watched a gay teenage boy get excited by driving over speed bumps ("driver! driver! go faster! iiii loooove iiiit!") And got the thumbs up, a "love the hair" and a wisened nod from a dishevelled grey haired rocker. Good times. Welcome back to summer in Manchester. (ps - I am currently loving the wind in my hair giving the appearance of mutton chops, there. Especially following my extreme facial hair conversation with Sam. I want a beard :( )

(2 words | to choke upon) [08 May 2008|04:52pm] [ mood | crushed ] and now yoshimitsu has vanished. great. no more spazzy hamster circles. :( my heart hurts. mainly plagued with thoughts that she might not be safe. i mean my room isn't the most hamster friendly environment. and oooooh we have miiiiiice and if they attack her i'll never....... urgh i have images of her off on a lemmiwinks style quest. only not up an arse. what a naff day, i want my spazzy fluff ball back.

(5 words | to choke upon) [07 May 2008|03:36pm] i've quit weed. well. i'm not sure if it's going to be a perma quit or a temporary pause to focus on work.... but either way, i'm not exactly sleeping very well right now so... bored. awake. have a bloody...thing. ( Read more... )

(7 words | to choke upon) [03 Apr 2008|02:50pm] some pictorials because i can't really be arsed doing a proper update about my adventures down south. it's weird. i'm SO northern. i mean...i tried to explain to jim how as far as i'm concerned there is no world beyond the north west of england...but he didn't really understand. so yeah.... i crossed the line and went south for the first time. and then got arrested on the first day: SEE. IT'S THAT SOUTHERN ATTITUDE AGAINST NORTHENERS....i jest. but seriously. i dont see why they chose me for a random spot search. i might actually BE dodgy...but i don't really LOOK it. ...just typical that it happened on a day when my bag was stuffed with my weed, jims weed and a pile of spliffs. interestingly, once they had the actual bags of weed they seemed to cease searching.... so by keeping my gob shut i managed to keep hold of my spleefs. although...they dont know that i didnt have a shot gun in that back pocket of my bag. they're damn lucky it WAS only some doobs. ...silly piggies. ( Read more... ) yes, there are about 50,0000 more photos and a fun anecdote for every one of them. but i have a headache. and i've booked a table at St. Petersburg Russian resteraunt for 7pm so i really need to go and like....not be updating lj. [editio:] with lisas birthday and anniversary of her death a little over a week away... it's been heavy on my mind. when she first died, i googled her... and it was all news reports of this horrific car crash. i did it again today.... and it pulled up a review she'd written online in which she went off on one about some "FAT guy who left my daughter in tears" ...which cracked me up. <3 then the other was....an NHS newspaper that seemed to feature her name and accident details. i could feel the venom brewing inside me.... how could they? make a fucking NHS story out of my sister... she wasn't just some stat for them....i thought i was going to vomit as i trolled through the endless pages of the newspaper, scanning for her name. then on the very last page, i found it. a half page spread about the tragic loss of a well loved physch nurse, ...and a testimonial to her character. god. WHY did they take HER? i know anyone can say that when they lose a loved one...but lisa? fuck. she was...just....exeptional. (an expetional fucking CUNT at times.... but still..... one of those people who still gets talked about for their contribution to the world hundreds of years on. she really was something else.)

(2 words | to choke upon) [12 Mar 2008|10:59am] [ mood | content ] I'm a bit angry, I am. This woman....who'd asked me to review this gig for her....said she'd phone me a week before the gig. She didn't. So 3 days before the gig I emailed her. She didn't reply. She eventaully phoned me at like 9pm on Monday night...and claimed she'd emailed me. Which is bollocks, cause I was online as she called me. She asked me to be at the venue for 9pm. At 5 to 9....with me and Paddy literally a stones throw from the venue...she calls me to say it's been cancelled because the PA had "blown up". She then claimed she'd been calling me for ages and had left me several messages. Which is funny considering I had no notifications for missed calls or voice mail....and everyone else had been able to contact me with ease all day. I just laughed along and made her promise to send work in my direction in the future. But for serious. What a cunt. What a waste of my day. Me and Paddy spent all day in town just to avoid having to go back between Fallowfield and town. >:/ ..On the plus side we did waste 2 hours of our time going to the Gunther Von Hagens exhibition. Was pretty cool... it's housed in this massive and somewhat eerie wooden floored warehouse down shit loads of tunnels and stuff right round the back of the museum. The fact that you have to walk through canvass covered tunnels over bridges to get there just sort of creates this back ally freak show feel to the whole thing. Which is unfourtunate. Paddy went very pale at one point and had to be escorted out. Which is VERY unfortunate. He keeps begging me not to tell anyone in uni............but......it's too good! (and just because I've been, doesn't mean I wont go again with everyone else.) On the double plus side.... I have more writing work...this time for SparkleStreet - Mr. Scruffs management company. They want some total arse kissing hype writing for a promotional press pack.... but at least they're actually not likely to dick me about. I did an interview with Rob Webb wot duz write for the NME and Drowned in Sound and who did expose the Arctic Monkeys.. on Monday, as well. I think I've fallen in love with him... Then Dave Smith...the vocational placement bloke in uni cornered me by the coke machine and put his arm round me and said "How's Manchesters favourite little journalist today, then?" and I felt like I'd accomplished something. Paddy was saying Dave thinks I'm amazing...and it was Dave who got me the Mr. Scruff thing...so...it's just nice that someone has faith in me. Got the results back for my live review assignment too.... and Gareth had just been so wonderfully nice and positive about my writing... I mean, he must have known that it'd mean alot to me to say the things he said. Got my highest grade yet, as well, schweet. So yes. My chest is feeling puffed out and I'm feeling like I'm making steps forward. My heart is also verging on being mended too. Standing infront of Jim this morning, his arms looped lazily around my waist while I was folding his collar back down around his freshly knotted tie with him mumbling rudeness in my ear -...I was just like, yeah....I can see this.

(9 words | to choke upon) [07 Mar 2008|02:42pm] my rent went out on Feb 27th and emptied my bank account, leaving me with minus £100odd my rent went back in on Feb 28th and I got charged £40 for it bouncing, leaving me with £100 i signed for a house that i was told had no deposit, and was not ever informed that i was expected to pay £500odd upfront. so at the moment i owe my current landlord £300, my new landlord £500.... and i have £9.67 in the bank. i got a letter on wednesday saying there was a cheque for £500 waiting for me at city college from the emergency access fund....because all my money has been going on taxis to college. then i got an email from my tutor all like "there's money for you! there's money!" so today, i used my last £9 to get a taxi to city college to collect my cheque and cash it at the co-op cause they'll give me physical money there and then. city college are claiming no knowledge....despite me having the fucking letter in my hand. so they gave me a phone number to try to speak to the woman in charge of the access fund. it's invalid. i just bought a sandwich with 2ps. i'm going back to bed. (i have a cheque for £1,000 thats currently processing, my loan installment of £1,300odd is due in like 3 weeks and i have this cheque for £500....so i have like £3,000....BUT I CANT FUCKING GET AT IT. im gonna staaaarve this weekend.)

(5 words | to choke upon) [04 Mar 2008|12:18pm] some plank did the unthinkable and uploaded pictures from our primary school onto facebook. grr. but... it kind of suprised me to see our class photo really. 'one of these shapes is not like the others...one of these shapes just isn't the same' jesus. no wonder teachers used to genuinley ask me if i was "in some cult that banned smiling". dont know if you can tell from the crappy photo...but my eyes are just locked on some totally non existant spot in the right hand corner. cheer up, little miss kel.

(8 words | to choke upon) [18 Feb 2008|09:07pm] [ mood | content ] [ music | space - money ] So. I'm about to try and justify a serious splurge.... .....I haven't really mentioned it because it's GROSS but...I've had a really bad, sore rash since October. It started in mid October just when all the shit started kicking off with Bob...so the Dr just said it was stress. I've been to the Dr five times over the last few months and been given various tablets and steroid creams... but I was still in itchy hell and bleeding quite alot. Then Jim randomly suggested trying alternative medicine. So on Saturday we went to a Chinese medicine centre. They charged me £35 for seven huge bags of TWIGS and LEAVES...that I have to brew two mugs of herbal tea a day with. ...This wouldn't be too bad if the herbs just tasted a bit shitty. BUT THEY TASTE LIKE HELL FIRE. I mean...she said it'd be bitter but....daaaayyyyuuuuum. It actually burns. So I bought this to cheer myself up :) I deserve it.....right? even if the rash IS starting to clear up. The Chinese are GODS. OH! and also SERIOUSLY cheering me up today : Space - Spiders I FINALLY GOT A COPY Seriously...it's an album I owned when I was about 10...and it's stuck in my mind for the last 13 years because it was THAT good. I've been trying to track down a copy for about two years on and off... ..and wow. It's every inch as amazing as I remember....and remember I did! On first play I sang back every lyric to the songs...just etched into my brain. It's just...so dark and disturbing and PERFECT.

(1 word | to choke upon) [08 Feb 2008|11:52am] urgh. i just sent off a portfolio of writing to some people who might be interested in taking me on as a gig reviewer. nervous much? // huzzah! nervous with no need: Hey Kelly Thanks for your email! We are currently looking for reviewers - so you've timed your email well!! I'll forward this onto our regional editor Emma and will get back to you with regards to you reviewing some of our gigs in the near future... I may also ask you to do some demo and EP reviews too... If you need any more info in the meantime, please give me an email on this address or a call on . *dance* helloooo free gigs.

(7 words | to choke upon) [06 Feb 2008|01:39pm] I don't know how well this is gonna show up on a webcam pic but... Yesterday, Gareth handed us all out these sheets of "wank word bingo". Our other tutor Phil, is just this absolute business loser who just spills out ridiculous phrases that sound big and hold little value... so Gareth suggested playing business-wank word bingo in the classes. This wasn't particularly funny, unless you know Phil.... but then someone shouted out "GARETH'S PRINTED OUT RACISM!" And it ..became funny.... say whaaaat?

(5 words | to choke upon) [31 Jan 2008|11:53pm] i appear to have a brand spanking swanky new laptop. nay, "notebook" apparently....because it iz well small, innit. anyway, i didn't post a photo of el sleeve yet because i can't find the wire for my digital camera but HAIL ...this little wonder has a webcam built into the effing screen, yo. just a pity that i washed my make up off, scruffed my hair up and got into a RACECAR BED \m/ before i realised that fact... can't fit the whole arm in, but you get the point. and it's not finished yet, i have to go back for the colouring and shading. but yeah...racecar bed because i'm in lifferpewl for the weekend. i have 3,500 words to write by monday and some social dates to fit in inbetween. bugger. i have to stop leaving things till the last minute, it's not like it hasn't been on my mind for the last 3 weeks...i just can't be ARSED until the pressure hits.

(16 words | to choke upon) [29 Jan 2008|09:01am] MOAN Fuck off, it's not particularly often that I do it. And even then it's either really blunt and quick like "oh yeah, and my sister died" or it's long-winded but awfully trivial like ...crying about bob for 12 pages. This is somewhere inbetween. I'm well fucked off! :D Nah, not really....just....I'm fed up of my quality of life, or my like...lack thereof. I'm feeling like I'm a bit stuck in the Eddie Izzard comedy about career aspirations. You know "You're British, so scale it down a bit..." except it's more like "You're disabled so scale it down a bit..." I wanted to be a musician so I worked really hard to get into music school and pass the audition with no previous musical training... On the DAY of my audition I woke up blind. I drove myself forward with the help of some seriously wonderful taxi drivers and members of the public and I passed the audition and interview while scarily blind...thinking it was just stress from wanting to go to college so badly. About a month later I was diagnosed with MS and....it didn't really change anything until about a year later when I started to find it harder and harder to move my fingers. Then I got taken to hospital with damaged joints and they said that I should probably give up the idea of wanting to be a performer. Then Lisa died and I lost feeling in my fingers on both hands and found it VERY difficult to play guitar so it became: "what do you wanna be kid?!?" "a musician!" "look. you're disabled...so..scale it down a bit..." "okay! i'll be a music manager!" But now it's coming up to work placement time at uni and I'm realising that I'm doing a degree with an aim to get a career that I just can't physically do... They were talking about desk jobs that I could do so now it's become.... "a music manager!" "Look....you're disabled...so scale it down a bit..." This aspect of things is annoying moreso because of the people on my course who just don't appreciate the chances they have. Like Serena who just never came in so completely sacrificed her place on the course....just because she didn't care....and I want it so badly and just....can't have it. People say I'm lazy because I never come out and socialise anymore...but it's not that I don't WANT to...and to be perfectly honest it's not that I don't sit in bed crying while everyones out. I want to go dancing. I want to go out and flop in the pub with my mates. I want to go and shop till I drop...and not drop after 5 minutes. When we went to see Bill Bailey the other month...I even had to seperate from the group, and while they all went to the Christmas market and drank spiced Cider...I had to get a taxi up to meet them at the arena. Left out of the reindeer games, always. And it's not just that either, I hate feeling like a moaning burden on my friends if we actually try to do something. Even today Kriz had to abandon me half way and carry on without me on the walk back from Sainsburys because I had to stop and sit for ages. IT'S GASH. But at least he completely understood about the immense feeling of euphoria when I could see the house...being like seeing the top of the mountain on a big climb. But no more moaning... I've got to accept that as unfair as it is, I HAVE to work that little harder to achieve the every day things. But at least it always makes them that little bit more special. I've been going for short walks every day to strengthen my legs and stuff and...I AM going to do a proper work placement, I AM going to work AWAY from a desk in the music industry and I AM going to go out dancing and get pissed on my birthday. So nyah. Nyah to you ms, nyah. I'm a bit sulky about it all because I'm starting to feel a little bored with life. There's SO much I want to do but just never have the energy.... I want to be the person I feel like I am inside, does that make sense? probably not. I think I'm going to email the guy who sorts out work placements and try to get something journalisty for now before I have to start my proper work placement, either way. Can't stay in this boring heap! Nothing's moving forward at all.... oh and...what's a better word for "gay"? I'm designing a tattoo and the quote I'm basing it around is "all the gay things I say make such a pretty melody" ...but I can't have "gay" etched in my skin... Something meaning "flippant" that flows?

(10 words | to choke upon) [06 Jan 2008|07:24pm] [ music | msi - never wanted to dance ] I originally posted this on the 27th, but I decided the next day that it was a little...uhm...aggressive and mental? So I'm editting all the moaning out and reposting :) While I was still in Manc I got a letter to say that Bailiffs would be round in 2 weeks to take £800 worth of my shit (well...£600-odd plus 25% bailiff fee.) ..Which by my recknoning will work out as just after new year. What a wonderful way to kick off 2008. As if 2007 hasnt been bad enough. This is all down to the fact that city councils are pyar nob'eads. I only got the first installment of my loan in the first week of December....despite applying for it in MAY and it being due in SEPTEMBER. ...I applied for Council Tax benefit over the summer because my uni placement was unconfirmed - I never recieved a penny of this and cancelled my application the second I knew I was in uni. I was just being cautious, because I knew I'd never be able to pay the tax on minimum wage. Then, in the first week of September, I sent off a Council Tax Exemption form. I got a letter not long ago telling me I was due up in court for not paying council tax on November 13th.....I phoned them instantly...explained my situation and they said not to go to court and to send them another form. So I did. About a week later, because it takes 5 days for uni to prepare the certificate. Now I have a letter saying I'm getting debt collectors on my ass for not going to court? I called them. Guess what? Oh yeh...send them another certificate. Which I wont be able to do till after the date the bailiffs are due because UNI IS CLOSED. I'm going to sue them for emotional damage until I have the spunk out their balls and the blood out their veins I swear. I don't need this level of incompetence....living away from home for the first time is hard enough as it is. On the plus side if any bailiffs do come round, they can't force entry....and my bedroom is on the ground floor....so I should be able to have some fun out of the window. On the 22nd I got a phone call to inform me that Alex, who doesn't have a drivers liscence, had bundled his belongings into his mothers car, left a brief but clearly fed up note and buggered off to God knows where. Happy Christmas to The Sinclair Family / The Crosby Masseeve. They gave him notice about the time they would contact the police if he didn't call them...since he'd switched his phone off. But he never called....so the police were brought in. I think they interviewed like Ra and JC or something... and his parents, God love them, said they'd given him permission to take the car so that the police could only charge him with anything if they actually found him at the wheel. We all pretty much spent the day racking our brains about where he could be, and with who since he'd said he was with an old school friend. So, that was that on the Alex front for that day.... On the 23rd, having still not heard from Bob despite asking him politley to return my things before Christmas, I decided to take things into my own hands. Cue ShellyBean, saviour to all, who agreed to chauffer me (in the Audi :D) to Bobs house to get my stuff. Which I wouldn't be arsed about if it wasn't....my guitar. We got into the car, along with directions courtesy of the RAC journey planner, at about 4pm....and the directions said it would take about 20minutes tops....so we'd agreed to meet Die & Markulous at 5pm in town. Big mistake. First stop was Sue's house down Allerton Road on the way into Woolton where we exchanged a bag of her stuff for a Philjay-shape and carried on our way to Woolton. Now...I know that obviously Bob likes to hide away...but I didn't really expect that his street would too. Especially considering I've been there before... We drove up Allerton Road, down Allerton Road..up Woolton Road, down Woolton Road....through Woolton Village, round Woolton Village about a thousand times each. Poor Shell, seriously....we were so lost.... and poor Phil who only got in the car with us on the basis of getting a quick lift into town. And poor Die and Mark as 5pm crept up and passed by. I kept offering to sack it in and just go into town but I think the idea of driving around Woolton for over an hour pointlessly wrecked Shells head....so we pressed on. UP ALLERTON ROAD, DOWN ALLERTON ROAD....you get the point. Eventually we wound up at Liverpool South Parkway Station so ...we pulled in and phoned a taxi. Seriously...it was that hard to find. So the taxi arrived.... I jumped out and into the cab and we played 'follow that car!' ...which really confused and concerned the taxi man, having a girl in an audi stalking him ...so I explained that we were out on Bailiff duties, haha. Kel the Bounty Hunter, yo. We eventually got to Bobs road just after six....and me and Shell tottered over to the house. Knocked once, knocked twice....."hammer on the window." says Shell. THWACK THUD TWACK goes Kel. I didn't really mind who I dealt with, so long as someone could get me my guitar from their rehersal place. His dad answered....and it was from this conversation that I came to realise I was never really Bobs girlfriend. "You here for Charlotte?" "I'm a bit old for Lottie.....Bob actually." "Bob. God. Bob....I....I....don't have a clue where he is." "What about Pete?" "Pete's in town with some friends..." "And Jon?" "Jon'll be at his flat......sorry....who are you?" :/ haaaa. I've even MET him before. He then invited us in and called Jon....who thankfully was with Bob....so he passed the phone to me. Spoke to Bob, told him I'd be in Korova in town within an hour and that he should bring my guitar to me. As we left the house, I turned to Bobs dad and sort of....apologised for having to come to the house etc and....I've never seen such a look of disgust and lack of empathy directed at me.....oh wait, yes I have. On Jon. And then later that evening on Bob. GOD the Hughes men are....urgh. Do they all have asperges or something? I'm serious. Anyway.... we drove to Korova and met Die & Mark and had a lovely meal and a natter...just the five of us. Bob arrived after about 40minutes and I quite bluntly asked "how're we doing this then? you just dumping my stuff and leaving or do you want to go for a chat?" and he asked for a talk. So I oh so gracefully jumped over the back of the sofa, stole two ciggies from Philjay and went outside with Bob. The so called talk was over by the time we finished our smoking and consisted primarily of Bob whimpering about his life falling apart and apologising. I wish I'd just screamed the You'll Rebel to Anything lyrics ("boo-fucking-hoo, you're not the only one whose life's a piece of shit and yet miraculously somehow WE all seem to deal with it" etc) in his face. I mean...this 'my life falling apart' bollocks.....he's been threatened with being kicked out of college. Why? because he doesn't go! [about 500 paragraphs of pure RAGE have been removed, here] I should have said all this while digging my nails into his eyesockets and feeding him his own eyeballs down his throat backwards.... Instead I made a mildly rude comment about not being sorry for me because I wasn't the one losing something good, gave him a cold hug and walked back into Korova. [a further 4 paragraphs] The end. And yes, I do feel better for all of that...thankyou. After dinner we left Korova and popped over to The Met for one or two.... where it just so happened that Kieran and Jones were upstairs recording their new demo...so it was nice to see Kie. It was a highlight....however! The biggest highlight of the night....NAY, MY LIFE.....was this house that was just a glowing beam in the distance that compelled us to drive towards the light as we entered Crosby: Mmm, the self-satisfaction of feeling better than a chav. As we got into Crosby I suggested popping in to see Alex's mum and dad... so we did. Only Vicky, Alex's mum, was in....and she looked awful. Tired and puffy eyed. We talked for a good 30minutes, before I mentioned Shell was outside in the car and Vicky asked that I brought her in.... stayed another 10minutes or so.... gave our love and big hugs and headed home. Then at about 1am I got a phonecall from Vicky to say that Alex had been in contact and about 10 stone of weight lifted from my head. Still didn't manage to sleep though. Christmas Eve....I nipped round to my nan & Moe's to see my dad and distribute presents. [just the two gone this time] The I went drinking in town quite early on in the afternoon..... Then I trotted on to Crosby to drink further into the night with Shell, Lou, Ra, Kev, Lloyd and a crew of people Shell knew. Good times. Just a pity Bins, Wob, Fellows etc weren't there. Shell had her clevage out which always completes any night for me... phhoooowar. It was jokes, really...laughed alot, I love my friends. Christmas day was.....72 hours with no sleep....so I rolled downstairs at 10am and promptly lay on the floor screaming for water and hyperventilating while the room span. Merry Chriiiistmas, everyone. Nah - it was fine once I'd had some water. I mean, I was exhausted and every carrot and sprout I peeled burned my muscles....but aside from collapsing crying at the dinner table when a song that reminded me of Bob came on.... it wasn't actually that bad of a day. [three gone here] See, she needs to get into watching Eastenders.... it's what Christmas is all about.... realising that as much as you think your life is like a soap opera..... your wife didn't cheat on you with a ginger baked bean. Huzzah! Boxing day... Again no sleep. But at least Top Gear was on from midnight, so I had something to occupy myself with. Stevie arrived from Scotland with Lori and Aidie....just in time for everyone to leave to watch the rugby and leave me with Aidie :D Aaaaa I love her. I've always said that she's exactly how I imagine my child would be. She scopes out situations quietly with big eyes and isn't.......a screaming self obsessed brat the way Lori was when she was little. It's lovely to spend time with her.... The whole time we were together there wasn't a single tear, or scream, or whinge.... just boss times! We played with an etch-a-sketch, danced to Frank Zappa and walked round the garden marvelling at trees. I'm not joking when I say I want to steal her.... Lori always knew who I was....because I was there the day she was born and baby sat her, and bottle fed her and changed her and was active in her life till she was about 5, when me and Lisa fell out. But of course, when Aidie was born Lisa and I werent speaking....so I only met her for the first time at Lisas funeral when she had just turned one. At one point, I was bursting for a piss so....belted up stairs really quick while Aidie was distracted by the Tweenies and no sooner had I got into the bathroom when I heard a little "Keeeeeel?".....and the tears started. Finally....I have a place in her life. Finally I'm an aunty again.... I just wish it didn't take my sisters death to get there. It's the same situation with Stevie... the whole time I've known him (which, considering Lisa was my age when she had Lori...must be 9/10 years)....I always thought he was cold, aloof and a bit dull and lacking in personality. But no.... I've really enjoyed his company and presence in the house. He's really witty and charming and a fucking fantastic father. He got me a music business book that's even on my uni reading list for Christmas.... completley touching and perfect. Lori is an angel, too... After dinner we gave eacother make overs... which basically consisted of Lori drawing flowers on my face, writing Kel on my cheeks with eyeliner and covering my lips in purple glitter, of which I ingested far too much. Then I gave her Kel-style make up....full on proper pale with blusher and big eyes. She's going to be uber foxy when she grows up... doing her eye make up made me so jealous, cause she has the most perfectly cat-shaped eyes. Now I'm going to bed...to lay there a bit.....because I'm going back to Manc tomorow to try and pick up and get some SLEEP. My mum doesn't want me to go home because she's concerned what with it being Bobs birthday... But I really do just intend to be asleep all day so I can be alive again by Friday. [a million gone from here] I also haven't eaten. Christmas is meant to be this period of extreme scoff. I've not had anything remotley bad for me.. Like, no desserts or crisps or anything.... I only ate the sprouts, french beans, mange tout and chestnuts from my Christmas dinner.... then when everyone else had left-overs-roast today... I made a fucking WICKED sandwich. Pork. Turkey. Rocket. Spinach. Watercress. Stuffing. Apple sauce. Mayo. Granary bread. FUCK YES. It was goooorgeous... I managed to just about make a dent in one half of it. That and a small amount of nut roast on Saturday is 100% honestly all I've been able to eat in the last week. Well...lies....I managed half of my bean burger in Korova. Mark finished it off for me and Die nibbled the chips. It's not a depression thing either...It's been going on for a long time. I would always give Bob a dinner twice the size of mine...which he would finish before finishing mine for me. I'm only just noticing it more now because he's not there to make my plate look empty when I clear away dishes. The size 8 shorts that I bought are already starting to get looser. I'm not happy . /// Well since writing that, I am happy to report that I came home and ate and slept and am now a little pudgier and alot happier.I also, while cleaning my room, found a favorite tshirt of Bobs. It's covered in months old dried jizz. I WOULD clean it...but he doesn't want his tshirt smelling of me now does he....so it's getting posted as is. :P Which amuses Kriz no end. Sending spunk by mail. I'll do the follow on New Year post when I get time... for myself since I'm only waffling to Die and Kyly these days anyway :P But tomorow is uni! arg! so I must go do laundry before Top Gear :D

(3 words | to choke upon) [28 Nov 2007|02:08pm] i hate the human race. fo' real. this feeling started last year when i fell over on the ice in town and couldn't pull myself back up so.....people stepped over me while i lay on my back like a struggling dung beetle. last night, i took bob to the train station to go back to liverpool...i dont usually go back with him, but we'd had a pretty intense few days, so i did. after he'd belted across oxford road station to try and catch the train back for a moscow rehersal....i turned round and got on the first bus going my way. usually get the 42...but i decided to try out what the 41 had to offer. i hadn't been on the bus for more than one stop when this..pained...gutteral...animalistic scream pounded out from behind me. i can't describe it...it was petrifying... i've got to be totally honest at this point and confess that i thought there was a psychopath behind me so i did the totally british thing of not turning around and just staring wide eyed infront of myself. but then it happened again. the roaring sound of somebody locked deep down in a dank 18th century mental assylum. so i turned round. about 3 rows of seats behind me on the bus was a stocky greek looking man... shaking in violent spasms and ...foaming at the mouth... he had thick white viscous shit pouring from his mouth while his eyes rolled back in his head and he rocked back and forth. so i looked round the bus at all the people with earphones in...texting away on mobiles...heads burried deep in the metro... but more annoyingly were all the people just LOOKING AT HIM. so i sarcastically shouted "isnt anyone going to fucking do anything?" and got up from my seat to sit next to the man. i put one hand on his thigh and asked if he could hear me, if he was okay etc etc while tilting his head with the other hand because i was shit scared he was going to choke. i called out for the driver to stop. he did..and he came over to see what was going on and got quickly on the phone for an ambulance. everyone on the bottom of the bus continued to just sit there silently....but it was at this point that people from the top deck started coming down stairs and just....getting off the bus. busy busy busy fuckers that they must be. the driver was getting really frustrated on the phone at all the questions he was being asked about this complete stranger.... and it occured to me that the man might be better off in the recovery position rather than me holding his head back.. so i looked up and asked about the recovery position. i've never done first aid. a woman behind me with short dark curly hair, in a red coat told me that he needed to be on his side on the floor with his head supported. so i looked around at all these people on the bus sort of...at least expecting someone to jump up to help. but no... i actually whined out..."please? i dont have the strength" but nothing. so i mumbled "needs must..." and hooked my arms under this middle aged kebab filled 20 stone monster's pits and dragged him with all my strength onto the floor of the bus. it took me a good five minutes of struggling with...being generally weak...and trying to keep him as comfortable as possible and not knock his head or anything...before i finally got him onto his side. then the fuckwit promptly sat up and tore his sweat soaked shirt off and passed back out, smacking his head on the floor. grr! the ambulance arrived and the driver told us that another 41 was waiting for us that we could get on for free. so we all filtered off onto the new bus...i ended up sat directly infront of the dark haired woman in the red coat and another woman who had been on the bus. to hear their conversation made me sick. "i mean...i'm a member of st. johns ambulance and im the first aider at work and you always think you'd just be able to get on with it but..." i just looked at my hands, covered in thick strings of sick-person saliva and the patches of sweat on my coat and just.........URGH. i hate them all. the despondancy toward EVERYONE just got another increase as well. my housemate, liam, has always had wandering eyes. suppose every man does, really. but last week he confessed to me that he'd nearly kissed this girl that he met the week earlier. liam has the most lovely girlfriend, nisha...who was sparking round our house party like a terrier asking everyone for a fight. she's only like 4ft something. she's sweet and funny and i genuinely like it when she comes to visit in manchester. this morning i came out of my room, walked into the kitchen...only to come face to face with a tall, slim, blonde, big titted thing in nothing but liams football shirt. after everything that i've just been through with bob...i currently can't even look liam in the eye. and kriz just informed me we're having a proper house dinner tonight... four of us sitting down to eat together. arse. had some quality adventures lately. ...lots of good times gone on. i'll report them back when i feel less disillusioned.

(2 words | to choke upon) [01 Nov 2007|02:22pm] [ mood | a lot less whingey ] Random times. The week I had off uni was pretty dire, really. Bob was round on Monday and Tuesday. We did some baking. I made some cheesey marmite pinwheels which were quality and then Bob full on murdered the art of cooking with his cheese pie. We had no egg to bind the filling together so I facetiously suggested using mayo and the nob'ead fucking did. With chunky halved challots and some whole sweet chillis. WRONG. And then he proceeded to eat the entire vile concoction which lead to him reeking of onion while we did finger painting. I had a bit of a breakdown on Monday night. I was doing my wifely duties of rolling my beloved a fatty boom batty when everything just hit my heart and I couldn't stop shaking and crying. But it was very British. Stiff upper lip and all that...I was trying to keep my face still and contoll the tears, while trying to grind weed up with shaking hands and occasionally uncontrollably wailing. Bob was grabbing at my wrists and pleading with me to stop skinning up and to look at him but I was a woman on a mission dammit! He eventually prized the spliff out of my hands collapsed on me. Lame. Wednesday was just...a day that occured and then ended. Thursday I went into town with my mummy for some retail therapy and caused a scene in Picadilly. I left mum in one shop and ran off to Primark to get some poiple tights (and a beret cause I'm shit hot with the trends, yo) ...and on my way back to meet mum, I had to cross a road. This...fucking FAT bellend in a tracksuit that should never have been seen by such innocent eyes as my own, holding hands with her boyfriend...crossed the road before the lights had changed, thus before everyone else, and twatted into everyone on my side of the road with her boyfriend-conjoined-hands. Mainly twatted into me, with their fists slamming into my chest. So me being me, mumbled out a little "oof! shit, sorry" To which I got: "I fucking hate when that happens, watch where the fuck you're going you stupid nob." Ahem. It was a bit of an incredible hulk moment. My eyes just went totally frozen, wide and glassy as I span on my heels and screamed at the top of my lungs in the middle of the city centre: "FUCK YOU. YOU FUCKING OBESE CUNT" and started storming after her with every intention of flattening the stupid little shit...except as I reached out to grab her by the hair, some woman grabbed ME by the collar and just said: "ignore her. she just did the same thing to me.." hmph. If I hadn't noticed at that point that about 100000 people were stood, staring at me... I don't know if I would have killed her or not. So that was Thursday. Bob was meant to come back at the weekend but he couldn't get the money together from his busking around town...so I kind of....sulked a fair deal. Monday was random...I was meant to be in uni but Jim turned up at our house just as I finished drying my hair at like...10am, so...I didnt make it. Instead...wearing only my PJ bottoms, no underwear, an LFC tshirt and my pink Converse... I headed over to Jims flat for a bit while trying to fend off Jim from pulling my pants down. Never tell immature people you dont have underwear on. Then the day went even more random as me, Jim and Kriz piled into Jims car and drove to Bradford. (why?) We drove through the hills with the Top Gear soundtrack/compilation BLASTING out.... then when we got to Bradford there was some kind of protest outside the uni, with THOUSANDS of police. So we did the grown up thing and drove past a couple of times with Meatloaf "Land of the Pigs" blaring out of the wound down windows. Good times. Blah blah blah Got my mofoing loan today...only two months late, like.

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