Vandalism...
Every time...every fucking time I have a piss, the bloody automatic room deodoriser spritzes the back of my head with floral scented carcinogens.
I decided to wedge a bit of cardboard in the opening where the nozzle pops out (like a cookoo clock) and just to be sure, tape it in place. Bad idea.
No. That's wrong. Good idea, bad reception. This afternoon, everyone in my section got an email from the bitch facilities manager asking whoever is destroying University property to stop at once or face disciplinary action. Apparently, the cleaner wasn't impressed by my ingenuity and initiative. Bastard.
The last few days have been tiring. I've been going to the gym before work which makes me feel really good and wide awake during the day, but by around 10pm, I'm absolutely shattered.
Saturday will definitely be paint my bedroom day. Saturday is also the day I have my first shift at the Jericho Tavern. My housemate works there and has a blast so I thought I'd give it a go and work 2 shifts/week. The Jericho Tavern is my second favourite pub after The Royal Oak. But neither can aspire to the dizzying heights the Duke of Cambridge occupies in my heart.
Currently listening to Lovely Head by Goldfrapp
City of Oxford Regatta is getting closer and closer and we're having fewer and fewer outings. Someone explain this to me, please?
So far today, I have consumed:
2 cups of tea
2 litres of water
1 banana
1 bowl of porridge with sunflower seeds, flax seeds and raisins
2 slices of toast
1 omelet made with 2 eggs and Red Leicester
14 Jaffa Cakes.
14?! I couldn't fucking believe it. I bought the kind that come in a tube this afternoon when I went home for lunch. I thought...Hmmm...I'll buy the ones in the handy resealable tube so I'll be able to handily reseal them after I have 1 or 2 each time, until they are gone. Also, the ones in the tube are 90p for 15, whereas the ones in the box are 71p for 12. You do the math, 'cause I can't.
Anyway, went home, had said (delicious) cheese omelet and toast, cup of tea and 14 Jaffa Cakes. This is getting ridiculous. I must have inhaled them. I've got to stop, man.
Had my hair cut SHORT yesterday at the Market Barbers in the Covered Market. A lovely fat Scotsman did it. I'm really pleased. It's the best haircut I've had in ages and only cost £10.20. I pointed to a photo in a magazine and said 'I want that one but less severe.'.
I can't help running my fingers through my hair though. It feels so damn nice. Ad, AND, my head doesn't look remotely testicular.
Go to Google and type in the word 'failure'. It's hilarious. And it's not even a piss-take but the real live, genu-wine site.
Currently listening to: Annie Mae by John Lee Hooker
Oxford is quiet socially at the mo. Barnaby, anti-technology Steven, sexy Patti, Mark Muscles, Tuvia, Hot Bescher, Johnny McK etc... are all gone. Most only for a few weeks but their absence is being felt greatly. I'm about ready to weep. Come back. COME BACK. COME BACK!!!
It seems my stalker has redoubled his efforts. I was flattered to begin with but now I'm just getting annoyed. I wouldn't mind so much if he used deodorant. Still, you can't have everything, can you? Huh? If I complain too much about this one, I might not have another for a long time and in a freakish, masochistic way, I quite like it. It's very flattering. Besides, I'm stronger than he is and can easily out-run him.
I'd quite like:
A new bike
A new computer
A new watch
A holiday in Italy and Spain
A new pair of spectacles (I just want a new pair, I don't need a new pair)
An unlimited shopping spree at Selfridges
Realistically, only the first 5 are going to happen anytime soon. BUT if any Selfridges MDs are reading...
Currently listening to: I Can Hardly Spell Your Name by Lambchop
I decided to wedge a bit of cardboard in the opening where the nozzle pops out (like a cookoo clock) and just to be sure, tape it in place. Bad idea.
No. That's wrong. Good idea, bad reception. This afternoon, everyone in my section got an email from the bitch facilities manager asking whoever is destroying University property to stop at once or face disciplinary action. Apparently, the cleaner wasn't impressed by my ingenuity and initiative. Bastard.
The last few days have been tiring. I've been going to the gym before work which makes me feel really good and wide awake during the day, but by around 10pm, I'm absolutely shattered.
Saturday will definitely be paint my bedroom day. Saturday is also the day I have my first shift at the Jericho Tavern. My housemate works there and has a blast so I thought I'd give it a go and work 2 shifts/week. The Jericho Tavern is my second favourite pub after The Royal Oak. But neither can aspire to the dizzying heights the Duke of Cambridge occupies in my heart.
Currently listening to Lovely Head by Goldfrapp
City of Oxford Regatta is getting closer and closer and we're having fewer and fewer outings. Someone explain this to me, please?
So far today, I have consumed:
2 cups of tea
2 litres of water
1 banana
1 bowl of porridge with sunflower seeds, flax seeds and raisins
2 slices of toast
1 omelet made with 2 eggs and Red Leicester
14 Jaffa Cakes.
14?! I couldn't fucking believe it. I bought the kind that come in a tube this afternoon when I went home for lunch. I thought...Hmmm...I'll buy the ones in the handy resealable tube so I'll be able to handily reseal them after I have 1 or 2 each time, until they are gone. Also, the ones in the tube are 90p for 15, whereas the ones in the box are 71p for 12. You do the math, 'cause I can't.
Anyway, went home, had said (delicious) cheese omelet and toast, cup of tea and 14 Jaffa Cakes. This is getting ridiculous. I must have inhaled them. I've got to stop, man.
Had my hair cut SHORT yesterday at the Market Barbers in the Covered Market. A lovely fat Scotsman did it. I'm really pleased. It's the best haircut I've had in ages and only cost £10.20. I pointed to a photo in a magazine and said 'I want that one but less severe.'.
I can't help running my fingers through my hair though. It feels so damn nice. Ad, AND, my head doesn't look remotely testicular.
Go to Google and type in the word 'failure'. It's hilarious. And it's not even a piss-take but the real live, genu-wine site.
Currently listening to: Annie Mae by John Lee Hooker
Oxford is quiet socially at the mo. Barnaby, anti-technology Steven, sexy Patti, Mark Muscles, Tuvia, Hot Bescher, Johnny McK etc... are all gone. Most only for a few weeks but their absence is being felt greatly. I'm about ready to weep. Come back. COME BACK. COME BACK!!!
It seems my stalker has redoubled his efforts. I was flattered to begin with but now I'm just getting annoyed. I wouldn't mind so much if he used deodorant. Still, you can't have everything, can you? Huh? If I complain too much about this one, I might not have another for a long time and in a freakish, masochistic way, I quite like it. It's very flattering. Besides, I'm stronger than he is and can easily out-run him.
I'd quite like:
A new bike
A new computer
A new watch
A holiday in Italy and Spain
A new pair of spectacles (I just want a new pair, I don't need a new pair)
An unlimited shopping spree at Selfridges
Realistically, only the first 5 are going to happen anytime soon. BUT if any Selfridges MDs are reading...
Currently listening to: I Can Hardly Spell Your Name by Lambchop
posted by OrlandoCatastrophic at Friday, August 12, 2005
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