Friday, 17 April 2009

I have been MUGGED. OFF. Couldn't be fucked with walking down to Sainsbury's (although had to go to the cash machine so walked all the way up to uni when there's one right outside the JS) to get essentials (read alcohol, cigarettes & frozen veg) so I thought I'd leg it across the New X Road to Iceland instead. MISTAKE. Ended up buying things I don't even need (hi, coleslaw) but thought my luck was in when I spied a litre bottle of vodka for £7.50. Win! Or not. Whilst studying the bottle once home, my eyes fell upon the tragic truth - it's only 22% abv. If I'd gone to Sainsbury's, I could have got 70cl of 37.5% for just £6 and got drunk quicker for less. If ever there was a moral tale about the perils of being lazy it would be this. 

At the end of my bed there is a stupidly sharp knife (for cutting cake. Obvzzz), a dirty wine glass, the newly purchased fucking 22% bottle of vodka, some sleeping pills and a pile of books about suicide (for an essay I still haven't done). Might want to sort that out before bringing any males of the species back here, I think. Wrong impression, much? When Irish girls came to visit I got to make some amazing joke about the suicide books being a bit of light bedtime reading, which made me happy though, so every cloud and all that. I like telling jokes and generally being funny. Most of the time I unintentionally make people laugh though which makes me question myself a little bit. Either that, or I say the filthiest thing I can think of and then go "I'm from Essex!" when people look disgusted. If I had a catchphrase it would definitely be "I'm from Essex", no two ways about it. My favourite three favourite jokes, like, ever though have nothing to do with smut, mind. Behold: 

1. A seal walks into a club... [/end joke]
No one ever gets it and that makes me sad, for it is literally amazing. A friend of a friend told it on the night I almost got killed by a fire extinguisher in Mile End to a crowd of 5 people. I was the only one who laughed. I like to think this is because I am intellectually superior but is probably because I have a rubbish sense of humour and its not really that funny, in reality. Hm. 

2. Q: What did Batman say to Robin before getting in the Batmobile? 
A: Get in the Batmobile, Robin. 
My flatmate told me that in our kitchen at 4am, one bitterly cold night. I almost spat my tea everywhere (attractive) and then practically gave myself a hernia laughing. Literally amazing. 

3. Q: What did the cow say to the pig? 
A: Hello
Literally!!! I made that up myself when I was 3. Child prodigy, I'm sure you'll agree. I was an almost winner of a child, I even painted the most amaze picture of an Olympic skier, which actually surprisingly does look like someone skiing. Sadly, I've lost my artisitc touch and can't paint for shit now. Or make up good jokes. My parents should blatantly have got Max Clifford to do my PR and whored me out as some comic art genius. Would've been minted. 

Friday nights are a bit whack, aren't they? When no one is around/everyone is skint/no one gives me guestlist for Johnny Foreigner, anyway. Today has been a successful day of amassing list for various shows, well befriending nice PRs and not listening to the same Big Pink song on repeat for hours. The past three days have been fairly ace, in fact. Weds - Mile End. Pizza & Curly Fries. Parks. Loz. and then the Wave Pictures & Planet Earth at the ICA, followed by a walk down to Buckingham Palace and Marble Arch and night bus home past Oval. (Oval makes me happy). Thurs - Big Pink listening. Phone calling. Arranging of assisting on photo shoots. Asking for guestlist for exciting things. Today - the aforementioned and hair cutting. 

Plans for le weekend = early morning charity shop shopping and then Patrick Wolf & Graham Coxon for free in Pure Groove in celebration of National Record Store day tomorrow. I want to tell you to come but then I don't want to not get in so please don't come until I'm there. Thanksss. Sunday is going to be a lazy day ending in Gaslighting and probable vodka hunting, as per. Definitely come to the Gaslight, yes. It is good and fun and in a basement full of nice people and Sunday nights are rubbish anywhere else really so come.  

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