gibbon-arsed ramblings of a hopeless underachiever
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| bandhag gibbon-arsed ramblings of a hopeless underachiever |
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Thursday, October 08, 2009 that on the other blog I used to write - the one where I kept my private teen-angst shit, I have six comments on my last post. Two tell me they read my blog with interest, before offering me fake degrees. Two tell me they read my blog with interest, and that I should read theirs, which "is just about my daily life as a park ranger". Two tell me they read my blog with interest and that I should get a 50 DOLLAR ABERCROMBIE AND FITCH VOUCHER just like they did. I've been to Abercrombie and Fitch once. In New York. It was really dark and the assistants all acted like they wanted to be your best mate when you walked in and asked you if they could help with anything and what have you but they weren't really looking at you when they said it so you kind of felt like maybe they weren't really all that bothered in knowing what they could help you with so you were probably best off just going and looking for yourself and they had sofas and rugs in the middle of the bit where the clothes should be and not much lights on, which I expect was to add to the AMBIENCE and I tripped on a rug that the sofa in the middle of the bit where the clothes should be was sitting on and felt a bit stupid and a bit cross that even if I'd have had a question to ask the assistant that I would think they'd answer, rather than just pointing and sneering, I wouldn't have been able to do it on account of the music being SO FUCKING LOUD AND UTTERLY SHIT MY BRAIN WAS BLEEDING. I didn't much care for it. posted by bandhag | 10/08/2009 10:12:00 PM So. I went quite again. I know. I guess I felt like I didn't have anything to write about, or like I didn't 'need' to write or whatever. For the longest time, it felt like there weren't any words in my head. But right now, there are a lot of words in my head. And it feels like I need to get them out of my head. And someone needs to suffer the brunt of them, so I guess it's blogworld. Lucky, lucky blogworld... I don't really know where to start. posted by bandhag | 10/08/2009 08:32:00 PM Friday, February 06, 2009 By Bandhag. Aged (ahemrufflmublecough) I met a boy. We fell in love. We moved in together. There was talk of buying a house. He suddenly had a big ole crisis, wasn't sure if he still loved me (or if he ever had), then decided he did but that didn't want us to live together any more, so we tried living apart for a while and seeing each other maybe once a week. Then I grew some self esteem and decided it was better for the both of us that we stopped doing that to ourselves. So we did. I lost six stone. I did a couple of courses in pole dancing (for fun - not career). I moved out of London. But still commute there. I bought a house. In the town I grew up in. With my younger sister. At the peak of the property boom. It has turned out to be every bit as wise a move as it sounds. I gave my middle sister away at her wedding. I learned how to knock down walls and fireplaces, how to chase the walls for new electric cables, and how to be respected by a bunch of burly workmen. I stopped smoking. Again. I started being one of those people who sees the end of things before they've started. Y'know: do I really want to get involved again? Is this really worth the risk of getting hurt again? How long is it going to take before it all goes wrong? And that annoys me. I don't like those people. And, probably, I had some ice cream and watched a dead good film and played out on my bike with Billy until mum said it was time for tea but we didn't want to go in for tea so we played out a bit more but then mum came out again and she was cross and she said it was time for tea or I had to go to bed so I said ok and I said to Billy I would see him again tomorrow but then I got the measles and had to be in bed for the rest of the holidays but it was ok because mum got me some comics and I had the telly in my bedroom. posted by bandhag | 2/06/2009 12:20:00 PM Monday, February 02, 2009 Honest to God. You'd think this country had never seen a bit of fucking snow before. I ask you. posted by bandhag | 2/02/2009 07:06:00 PM Thursday, July 07, 2005 I hope you're all safe and well - London dwellers and London visitors. I also hope that the BBC stops reporting this as though they were Sky News "It could be anti-globalisation campaigners!" "It's probably definitely Al-Qaeda - some Arab blokes phoned up and said so!" etc. Doesn't matter. Really doesn't matter. This is fucking horrible and my thoughts go out to anyone stuck in it. x posted by bandhag | 7/07/2005 11:52:00 AM Wednesday, June 22, 2005 Oo, I've been meme tagged by the lovely Neil Ok, My six favourite songs of the moment in no particular order are (with apologies to Neil for duplicating a couple of his, but they're corkers): Arcade Fire "Power Cut" The Dears "Lost In the Plot" Amerie "One Thing" The Futureheads "Hounds of Love" Gang of Four "At Home He's A Tourist" Apples in Stereo "Go" - cos it's summer, innit?! And doing the other one, even though he didn't never not even ask me to: The last CD I bought was: Arcade Fire "Funeral". Purely for Power Cut, which is a fucking great track that you must seek out and dance to. Lots. Song playing right now: "What's Mine Is Yours", from the new Sleater-Kinney album. It's on green vinyl and was a present from someone rather lovely. Five songs I listen to a lot, or that mean a lot to me: Ask me tomorrow and I could tell you another five. Or six. But today's off-the-top-of-my-head choices are Fugazi "Repeater" Candi Staton "You Got the Love" My Bloody Valentine "Soon" The Cure - both "In Between Days" and "Halo", for almost exactly the opposite reasons. Recently it's been much more Halo but In Between Days is beautiful. And makes me cry. This counts as one choice. Because I am an enormous cheat. The Smiths "How Soon Is Now?" I don't want to call people out by name, so I invite you all to do it. Hurrah, free love for all. damn hippies. posted by bandhag | 6/22/2005 04:07:00 PM Thursday, June 02, 2005 Or some more truthful and less dramatic title. How apt that someone should recently have been referred here by searching for the phrase "hate my fucking job"... I've handed in my notice. I don't have a job to go to. This has to go down as the single most reckless thing I've done in a long long time career-wise but frankly, my dears, I've had all I can takes and I can't takes no more. It feels right. I'm pretty sure I'll get something. I have to now, don't I? It's been sapping the good out of me for too long - I hear myself moaning about it sometimes and more and more just recently, I think "Shut up. Just fucking leave if you're that unhappy. Stop dragging other people into your misery". So I am. Leaving. I just can't express how much I need to not be at that company, in that atmosphere, doing those hours. Free. And possibly about to be very poor. Anyone need a secretary/editor/writer/whatever?! posted by bandhag | 6/02/2005 09:27:00 AM Monday, May 16, 2005 Doctor Who on Saturday. See it? Never been so glad to be watching a programme alone in my entire life. I bawled my freakin' eyes out. It's well recorded that I cry very easily at films and TV programmes and have been known to pipe my eyes over E.R., Casualty or documentaries about whales (I wish I was joking) but never Doctor bloody Who. Mind, it was blatantly meant to be a tearjerker, so I don't feel too ashamed. Yes I do. Crying at science fiction, for the love of God. And of course, laying that shame out for all to see on the supermation info highweb is the best way to deal with it. Meanwhile, I feel proper sorry for myself tonight because stupid FACKING job = having to be asleep all FACKING day = missing the FACKING text my friend sent asking if I wanted to go and see the new Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy film tonight, so I literally stumbled blinking out of bed just as they were all leaving. And neither am I at the Star Wars premiere. Bah, I say. Bah and humbug. Mind, I'd only embarrass myself by crying at them, I expect. posted by bandhag | 5/16/2005 08:20:00 AM |
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