Saturday, October 11, 2003
Go to a gig today. I'm off to see Four Tet this evening. Not quite a band, but there you go.
10/11/2003 10:57:00 am
Wednesday, October 08, 2003
For fuck's sake, like; I know I'm cool, I know I know a lot, I know I sit in the corner with 600 CDs above my desk, I know I'm tapping away on the keyboard as if I don't care about you (and believe me, most of the time I don't), I know you're 18 or 19 or fucking 57 and away at university for the first time and it's scary and you've never really used a library and I know I work here but I am not fucking psychic; I cannot tell what you want if you just come up to me sheepishly with something in your hand and stand 3 feet away looking at your fucking new shoes and don't say anything to me. I am not MAGICAL. Not for you, anyway.
Working in university libraries is fun.
10/08/2003 01:50:00 pm
A litany of shit.
In descending order of nastiness, stupidity and disrepute...
1 2 3 4 5 6
I think it's fair to say that professional football in this country is slipping rapidly down a very dark hole.
10/08/2003 11:07:00 am
What a surprise, blogger's a bit fucked.
10/08/2003 11:00:00 am
I saw a real, live badger last night, running down the back road from Teignmouth golf course to Dawlish Water, causing me to crawl along at 10mph as he weaved across the road. I must've followed him (blame Kenneth Grahame, but all badgers from now on are anthropomorphised as male) for half a mile before he ducked through a hedge. I've only ever seen dead badgers before.
10/08/2003 09:22:00 am
Tuesday, October 07, 2003
How many ways do I love you, Mouse On Mars? Many, many ways.
Only seven of us turned up tonight, fucking pathetic, just 'cos they lost last Sunday (I never play on Sundays, who the fuck wants to get bodychecked by fat men when they could be eating crumpets, eh?- last season I made two appearances, one as substitute striker [my natural position, being selfish and lazy and possessing a thunderous and occasionally accurate right-foot] and one as rightback [not my natural position]; I scored one goal, which was when I came on upfront- moral of the tale?- never ask Nick to play in defence). But only five of the people on the next pitch turned up too, so Steve switched over and we took them on. Had we concentrated we could've scored 20, as it was we won 8-2. Billy challenged me to score seven but after a spectacular left-foot volley went an inch wide, and another left-foot shot rifled off the post I started having fun rather than concentrating, as we all did, indulging in foolish dribbles and chipped passes for team-mates to volley clear of the fence. I did score one though, the opener, a proper head-down Ronaldo burst. Billy headed a corner clear, I picked the ball up and went at their only defender who'd hung back, left him on his arse and nutmegged the keeper with satisfying aplomb FORZA! Man, I love scoring goals. Love love love scoring goals, love nutmegging people, squeezing through gaps I shouldn't be allowed to get through, picking out instant, ad-libbed passes to my brother for him to score from, turning past people, surprising people by how fast I can be when I do run, how sturdy I am when I'm barged, but most of all I love love love scoring goals, and I love scoring spectacular goals best of all, turning the keeper, smashing the back of the net out, diddling defenders and stroking it home left-footed. Don't get me wrong; I'm shit, but I enjoy it.
10/07/2003 11:20:00 pm
Monday, October 06, 2003
Marcel Duchamp. The link is on the left near the bottom. I actually read it for about 15 minutes too, which is a record, and what's more I enhoyed it. Olly, have a gander; you're not the only disaffected youth in a job he hates. But you knew that anyway.
Lisa it's your birthday...
I find the episode of The Simpsons where Bart turns Homer's shirt pink in the wash, which leads to Homer being institutionalised and meeting a brickie from New Jersey who pretends to be Michael Jackson, almost unbearably affecting. Still, after seeing it probably half-a-dozen times over the years, the bit at the end where Bart and 'Michael' sing Lisa a birthday song ("Lisa it's your birthday! / happy birthday, Lisa!") accompanied by piano and wastepaper-basket-bongos, makes me want to cry. Which, for anyone who experiences actual real emotions like an actual real human being, is the equivalent of crying lots and lots. I am always hideously aware of situations which should or could make me cry, and thus I never actually do cry, because if you know it's going to happen it's contrived and therefiore meaningless. Which is, of course, shit, but there you go. I've cried a few times over the last 18 days. I have, if you didn't know (if you care), split up with my girlfriend of the last two-and-a-bit years, which is why AusPishFish has been somewhat erratic of late (apologies to anybody who caught the incredibly profane post that appeared for 30 minutes last Tuesday at approximately 11.30pm - I know at least a couple of people did; rest assured that I have calmed down and avoided smashing the person concerned's face into tiny fucking bloody pieces with a bat, though I've still dreamt about doing it a couple of times). I shan't go into the reasons (they are long and boring and miserable and not at all like a soap opera) for fear of upsetting anyone any more than has already happened. But anyway, yeah, that song in that episode; makes me want to cry.
10/06/2003 08:56:00 pm
Maybe I ought to... Nah. Sod it. Read James' blog, the link is on the left near the top.
10/06/2003 08:29:00 pm
Drugs are bad, kids. Even natural ones.
10/06/2003 09:20:00 am
Sunday, October 05, 2003
"You're too beautiful to love these plastic things, my friend..."
10/05/2003 10:36:00 pm
I hate Philip Larkin, miserable shithead that he is/was.
This Be The Verse
"They fuck you up, your mum and dad.
They may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.
But they were fucked up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats,
Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another's throats.
Man hands on misery to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can,
And don't have any kids yourself."
10/05/2003 11:22:00 am
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