Go Oxford!
Fucking pikies.
Saw The Constant Gardener last night. Silly name, really. Ralph Feinnes didn't spend nearly enough time in the garden to warrant the title 'constant gardener'. 'Occasional gardener' would have been more fitting. Anyway, the film wasn't as good as Hotel Rwanda. Go see it. I should be on commission.
The whole film experience was marred by a fat man sitting next to me. I like to sprawl out in the cinema with limbs going every-which-way. I like to twist and turn. Contort my lithe, nubile body during a film. I was denied the pleasure last night though. Fat bastard. Fortunately, I had Anthony C (who bizarrely, had a bouffant hair-do) on the other side of me so I was able to invade his space.
Currently listening to: Rhapsody in Blue by George Gershwin
Work is becoming increasingly tedious. It cuts into the things I'd rather be doing like sleeping, going to the gym, having coffee with people, drinking during the day, staying out all night with drugs and drink and loose wo(men). I need to win the lottery big-stylee. I'd be self-improving myself left and right. A course here, a class there. Little jaunts to Florence and NYC to take in the culture and sample the locals. But no. It is not to be.
The problem with not working is that I'd get frightfully bored. I like my job most days, just not lately. I am also sorely underpaid. I knew working in the public sector was the wrong move. Still, at least I'm making a difference in the world. I'll just keep telling myself that. Yeah. It'll make it all better.
Fuck that. The feel-good factor doesn't pay the bills. Does it?
Now listening to: These Are The Things by Black Box Recorder
This evening, I'm dining at St John's. Should be good. I hope. Thank you Jenny.
Thursday is mulled wine and mince pies at my place for the dinner-off crew (see a post from April/May?).
Friday is MCR Guest Night at Magdalen. Thank you Barnaby.
Saturday I will pickle myself as Mark K is in town for the evening/next morning. Annie, Alice, some random Mark and maybe Allyn are going out on the town. We'll show the undergrads how to party. Yeah we will.
Best description of someone ever: "Body by Baywatch, face by Crimewatch". Hilarious.
Was lurking outside the bathroom this morning waiting for The Belgian to emerge. And emerge she did. Towel around the waist but tits hanging out. What a beautiful image with which to start my day. It was positively bowel-loosening. I'm sure SOME sickos would have appreciated it but not me. No sir. Disgusting.
Now listening to: Saturday Night by Suede. Damn good band.
Had my hair cut today. I look dashing. Even more so than usual.
You know there is something very wrong when the sun sets at 15:30. I mean...WTF?!
Saw The Constant Gardener last night. Silly name, really. Ralph Feinnes didn't spend nearly enough time in the garden to warrant the title 'constant gardener'. 'Occasional gardener' would have been more fitting. Anyway, the film wasn't as good as Hotel Rwanda. Go see it. I should be on commission.
The whole film experience was marred by a fat man sitting next to me. I like to sprawl out in the cinema with limbs going every-which-way. I like to twist and turn. Contort my lithe, nubile body during a film. I was denied the pleasure last night though. Fat bastard. Fortunately, I had Anthony C (who bizarrely, had a bouffant hair-do) on the other side of me so I was able to invade his space.
Currently listening to: Rhapsody in Blue by George Gershwin
Work is becoming increasingly tedious. It cuts into the things I'd rather be doing like sleeping, going to the gym, having coffee with people, drinking during the day, staying out all night with drugs and drink and loose wo(men). I need to win the lottery big-stylee. I'd be self-improving myself left and right. A course here, a class there. Little jaunts to Florence and NYC to take in the culture and sample the locals. But no. It is not to be.
The problem with not working is that I'd get frightfully bored. I like my job most days, just not lately. I am also sorely underpaid. I knew working in the public sector was the wrong move. Still, at least I'm making a difference in the world. I'll just keep telling myself that. Yeah. It'll make it all better.
Fuck that. The feel-good factor doesn't pay the bills. Does it?
Now listening to: These Are The Things by Black Box Recorder
This evening, I'm dining at St John's. Should be good. I hope. Thank you Jenny.
Thursday is mulled wine and mince pies at my place for the dinner-off crew (see a post from April/May?).
Friday is MCR Guest Night at Magdalen. Thank you Barnaby.
Saturday I will pickle myself as Mark K is in town for the evening/next morning. Annie, Alice, some random Mark and maybe Allyn are going out on the town. We'll show the undergrads how to party. Yeah we will.
Best description of someone ever: "Body by Baywatch, face by Crimewatch". Hilarious.
Was lurking outside the bathroom this morning waiting for The Belgian to emerge. And emerge she did. Towel around the waist but tits hanging out. What a beautiful image with which to start my day. It was positively bowel-loosening. I'm sure SOME sickos would have appreciated it but not me. No sir. Disgusting.
Now listening to: Saturday Night by Suede. Damn good band.
Had my hair cut today. I look dashing. Even more so than usual.
You know there is something very wrong when the sun sets at 15:30. I mean...WTF?!
posted by OrlandoCatastrophic at Wednesday, November 30, 2005
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