bandhag
gibbon-arsed ramblings of a hopeless underachiever


Saturday, March 29, 2003

 

Went to see Cabaret at the cinema last night. It's one of those films I've always seen bits and bobs of (most notably the "World Belongs to Me" scene, which I think was wheeled out in the 100 Greatest Films thing on Channel 4 a while back), but never the whole thing. I hadn't realised how dark it is in parts. I won't crap on about the imagery and the way they manage to change the mood and tone so well throughout it, because I aint no hot-shot reviewer type, but I will say "I liked it a lot". And I will also say that Liza Minnelli is much more attractive than I thought she was. Hmmm. Put "was" instead of "is", and add "in her younger days" at the end of that sentence.

What I didn't like a lot was a) the fact that the only pubs near the cinema were horrid towny nightmares full of poseurs and b) the fact that the cinema seats were extremely uncomfortable. To put this into perspective - I'm shy of 5' tall; I do not need a lot of legroom. So when I'm finding it difficult to cross my legs, or thinking "Man it's cramped in here" it's a pretty good indication that it is very cramped in here. Unsurprising, then, that my normal-heighted male companion was hobbling like a pensioner by the time we left. The cinema used to be a really gorgeous old-fashioned one, that still smelled of cigarette smoke in the '90s and had those old double seats in the back row, but they decimated it a few years back to turn the downstairs into a facking Wetherspoons. Still, the cinema is a lot more pleasant, in some ways, than the huge multi-screen thing (though don't get me wrong, I'm not averse to a bit of big-screen-air-conditioned-huge-chair comfort - just the prices they charge).

Right, time to tidy. The Aunt is over from Ireland and she and my little sis are descending on me later, so it's time to stop my flat from looking like it's auditioning for "A Life of Grime" (if you're not from the UK - it's a TV programme about Environmental Health workers and the delightful examples of human disgustingness they come across and have to clean up). You can't tell I'm stalling from doing the housework, can you?..

posted by bandhag | 3/29/2003 01:31:00 PM


Thursday, March 27, 2003

 

I appear to have broken the intermaweb. Oh well.

I'm fully of nervous energy tonight. You know the way, when you feel like you want to do something, but you don't know what, and you can't get started on anything because when it comes to it there's too much that you need to be doing, so you end up just sitting there twitching and fiddling and huffing and puffing? That's me just now. I anticipate a whole book's worth of "Things I Do Instead of Sleeping" to be achieved when I try to go to bed tonight.

Meanwhile, I'll complain adverts that seem to be telling us that it's now dead cool to treat the people you love like shit.

Example the first: Old el Paso Fajita kit

Man making girl a some fajitas. Girl is on the 'phone to a friend (we presume female), snorting derision at his efforts "Did you hear that? Yeah, aromatic spices. I'll call you tomorrow if I'm still alive" she dribbles in The World's Most Annoying Voice Ever TM. Then, when it's nice, she demands another one rather than saying it's nice. The boy stays silent.

Message of the advert: EITHER - make these fajitas for someone you love. They won't appreciate it, but at least one day you'll probably leave them, find someone nice and they'll die a lonely old witch. If there's any justice. OR - if your boyfriend shows you any kindness, be really fucking horrible to him and tell everyone you know how shit he is. Never say thank you - it's a sign of weakness.

Example the second: Oil of Olay

Woman comes home from shopping, sees message on the fridge that she's meant to have got a sword to complete her daughter's dressing up costume. She's forgotten it. Never mind, she's quite cheery about it and says "At least I remembered everything my skin needs", showing off her pot of Olay. And then comes the science part, probably. (She does make the kid a sword, mind, which she probably should've done in the first place but still - I'm ranting, leave it).

Message of the advert: who cares whether or not you forget your family's needs, as long as you don't look old while you're doing it

The fact that I have neither a bloke nor a child is as irrelevant to all this as the fact that I possibly watch too much TV/retain information I'd be far better off forgetting.

Ok, I'll shut up now and go find something useful to do.

posted by bandhag | 3/27/2003 11:17:00 PM


 

testing

posted by bandhag | 3/27/2003 10:49:00 PM


 

test

posted by bandhag | 3/27/2003 10:47:00 PM


 

Oh, but before I go - apart from the whole double-standards thing of this fuss about POWs being shown on TV, why is it that the media are getting their collective knickers in a twist about what an outrage it is, while simultaneously going "Look! Look at the terrible thing those dirty A-rabs are doing! We will show you the pictures they are broadcasting again and again, just so that you realise how WRONG it is!"

posted by bandhag | 3/27/2003 12:14:00 AM


 

Went out with a mate I haven't seen for a while tonight. Actually, pretty much all my friends are ones I haven't seen for a while, it feels like... Anyway, I digress. The girl has just broken up with a bloke, with whom it seems she only ever had one conversation, over and over again for 18 months, and it went a little something like this:

her: Do you love me?
him: Hmmm. No, I don't think I do really. I sleep with you though, don't I? I might learn to love you. Why don't you carry on letting me fuck you, and we'll see how it goes.
her: So, you want to commit to me?
him: No. Now pop your clothes on the stool and let's make the sexy.
her: Ok. And then you'll love me and commit to me?
him: Um. No.
her: Ok. I know you mean yes really. Jump on.

I'm paraphrasing, but you get the idea. Bless her. She just wants to get married and have babies, and good luck to her if that's what she wants but, as I pointed out, she may want to stop trying to do it with commitment-phobic men who just want her for her (fantastic, it has to be said) body.

Pah. I'm bored of being awake now. 'Night.

posted by bandhag | 3/27/2003 12:10:00 AM


Sunday, March 23, 2003

 

What the FUCK? An American solider throws a grenade into a tent full of his comrades, two helicopter crashes, a journalist and a plane hit by friendly fire.

Tony Blair says we should give our troops and their families our thanks and support. I think he should give them his apologies.

posted by bandhag | 3/23/2003 08:58:00 PM


Friday, March 21, 2003

 

How irritating. Blogger seems not to be publishing an entry until I've posted the next one. If you see what I mean...

Is it possible to have reverse S.A.D.? Now that spring is coming, I seem to be permanently knackered and woolly-headed. Can barely drag myself out of bed every morning and I want to get into it as soon as I get home from work. Perhaps it's because both jobs have been really quiet recently, so I'm not tired, I'm just really really bored.

I'll try and write something a bit more interesting next time.

posted by bandhag | 3/21/2003 10:54:00 AM


Wednesday, March 19, 2003

 

I feel like I've been talking about war all day. I may attempt to not mention it at all on here. We'll see how it goes...

Well, the co-op open evening was good, quite informative etc. It's going to be tough actually getting a place, I think, because you have to go and check their list of vacancies regularly, contact the houses with vacancies, set up interviews etc and I can see me being at a bit of a disadvantage on that one, because I work in the evenings. We'll see, though. They reckon it takes an average of about 3 months to get a place. I'm quite excited, but also already getting anxious about packing etc.

I saw a fantastic thing today - a very proper old gentleman on his bike, full suit, bicycle clips, and a pair of bright yellow (think Buzzby of ancient BT ads) earmuffs. My little sister had some like that when she was about 6. He looked so dignified, though. And cute.

Found out tonight that my kind-of niece (long story) is pregnant. While I was busy being shocked, my sister pointed out that it was perfectly reasonable for her age - it's not exactly a gymslip pregnancy or anything. I remember her being born, though, for God's sake. My sisters and I bought her mum a box of Jelly Babies with our pocket money, to celebrate. I'm getting old! *weep*

posted by bandhag | 3/19/2003 12:00:00 AM


Tuesday, March 18, 2003

 

Strange things:
1. Posting three blog entries, none of which show up.
2. Reading a blog that you came across via a link from a blog that you came across via the link from a blog that you...(you get the idea) and finding it rather like reading something from your own head. And being paranoid that now, the people who regularly read that other blog (but not yours) might think that your blog is a bad copy of that other one. Even though you're not actually sure that your blog reads like the other blog, just that all the things she's saying remind you of the way you think etc.

Ok, now my head hurts. It's not hard to see why I don't get much done, is it?

posted by bandhag | 3/18/2003 01:00:00 PM


 

It's raining accommodation! Kind of... I've got the housing co-op open evening thang tonight, and some woman has just emailed me in response to a message I posted on an internal noticeboard thingy. Oh, decisions decisions...

posted by bandhag | 3/18/2003 10:14:00 AM


 

Facking hell, it's lovely weather. Sorry - I know - talking about weather is very very dull. I just really love it when it's still cold (but not too windy) but it's nice and sunny too. Mmm.

So. Looks like we're going to war, then. It's no real surprise; they don't care whether or not it's legal, who supports them, who gets killed, how long it lasts, they just want a WAR, dammit. I'm sickened by the sight of BBC news reporters, showing us the 'leaflets' our troops are going to hand Iraqi people, about staying in their houses, not driving at night, not letting their kids out, passed off as us 'wanting to protect innocent Iraqis from being harmed'. Purlease. Oh, and meanwhile there's a killer strain of pneumonia on the loose. Ah, what a wonderful world...

posted by bandhag | 3/18/2003 12:01:00 AM


Friday, March 14, 2003

 

I can't tell if no shout outs means you all think I'm shite, or no-one's reading this at all.

I went on a work's night out. It was appalling. There was the usual mixture of flirting and drunkeness that one would normally expect at one of these things. And then some. A man got all upset because a woman called him out on his true feelings, a woman got upset because the man she fancies who's snogged her a couple of times turns out not to have fancied her at all. etcetera etcetera ad nauseum.

At one point, I had to retreat to the toilets and phone a friend. He makes me feel right again. Kind of scary to get that feeling from someone you know you sort of scare the shit out of - someone who makes you feel like they're the big kid, holding you away with the palm of their hand on your forehead, while your arms windmill in the sky, fighting.....or trying to grab....something. Trying to reach out and touch them, albeit it a punch, but never getting there - their arms hold you too far away to ever get a blow to land.

posted by bandhag | 3/14/2003 11:22:00 PM


Thursday, March 13, 2003

 

For a moment there, I thought that I was so bored, I'd lost the will to skive. Then I remembered my blog.

I'm applying to a housing co-op. The application form is hard - or I'm finding it hard, anyway. "Please give us details of your experience of living with others" they say. "Uh?" I think. What am I meant to do here - list all the people I've ever lived with, describing all their various habits, backgrounds, etc and saying how it's ok, I got along with them all anyway because I'm so right on, maaaan?

Most of the questions I kind of want to answer "I just am" "I just do" etc. What makes you the sort of person to be suitable for the co-op? "I dunno, I just am".

Why do you want to live in a co-op? "because I just do".

I want to be part of a community - living on my own is driving me nuts and making me lazy and possibly a little self-obssessed. I don't want to live in accommodation controlled by landlords who couldn't give a fuck about the actual people in the house, where you can't even put up a poster without losing your deposit. I can't afford to live on my own any longer - not in Cambridge, anyway. I want people and noise in a house. And most importantly, I believe in and support that way of life, I want to make a move towards at least trying to make the way I live my life reflect the principles I believe in. I could say all that, I suppose. But I'm afraid of sounding flaky, rather than committed but not a total headcase about this stuff. And at the same time, I'm kind of worried about not coming across as (or being) committed enough, and not getting in.

Thinking will be the death of me - just write the damn form, woman.

posted by bandhag | 3/13/2003 12:21:00 PM


Wednesday, March 12, 2003

 

When I was about 15, my form tutor sent me to see the Head of Year - he didn't know why I had to go, he just said I had to go to the guy's office. So I went, and he wasn't there. I came back to the classroom and told my form tutor this, except I said something like "He wasn't there, you..." and at that point, I can't remember if I said plonker or prat. Either way - some feeble and pretty innocuous put-down. I don't know why I said it; I certainly wasn't deliberately trying to be "bad" or anything. Just didn't think. But he went ballistic. Ballistic enough to call my mum into school so they could sit around for an hour or so and discuss what a handful I was, the fact that I had a terrible attitude towards people in authority and that, in his opinion, I showed signs of becoming "dangerously rebellious".

Guffaw.

So anyway...imagine my delight when I opened the local paper today: 9 people were arrested yesterday for breaking into the air base at Lakenheath on a peace protest. Four of them chained themselves together with bike D-locks, while one of them cycled up and down a runway. And the mystery cyclist - well, I'm pretty sure it was that form tutor. Same name, and the description and job details sound about right. I so hope it was him. Go, Dolly, you dangerous rebel.

posted by bandhag | 3/12/2003 11:51:00 PM


 

How heavy are stomach gases? Very, is my guess, since SlimFast seems to work (and yes, it does work - sorry) exclusively by making you fart like a bastard. It's a bloody good job I live alone, though I'm not sure the cat would agree - she'd probably appreciate it if there was someone else around to give her sympathetic glances. Or to use their opposable thumbs to fit her with a teeny tiny gas mask.

posted by bandhag | 3/12/2003 03:36:00 PM


Wednesday, March 05, 2003

 

Blurgh. Bank is murdering me; rent payment bounced; looking for new (cheap) place to live; much rain on way home; couldn't see through glasses; nearly ran over several pedestrians with bike; trying to write thesis proposal; brain melting; more later.

posted by bandhag | 3/05/2003 10:49:00 PM


Tuesday, March 04, 2003

 

The bike is on the road. Hoo yeah, baby. I am much poorer, my arse is plenty hurty, and the fitting basket/lowering seat shenanigans have let me unable to put either of my lights on - but that's ok, I can handle a bit of light spanner-and-screwdriver work to sort that out. Hurrah! Slender youthful body, you will be mine. Also, extra half an hour's sleep in the morning, YOU will be mine - to put this into perspective, when I get the bus to and from work, the journey takes an hour on the way there, about 45 mins on the way back (have to leave extra time on the way there, to aim the for the earlier bus, which is always late. See?). Tonight, even in my decrepit, fitness-impaired state I got home in 20 minutes. Rar.

More later - must do thesis work. Bah.

posted by bandhag | 3/04/2003 08:35:00 PM


Monday, March 03, 2003

 

Oh, and the bike - just because I know you really care, is now at the fixy-man's shop (which means tomorrow, I shall be doing Exercise. Erk). There is to be replacing of brake cable, pumping of tyres, raising of handlebars and fitting of basket. Yes, yes, I know - but it means I don't have to carry my bag on my back and end up sweating like the proverbial swine by the time I get to work. Anyway, it's Cambridge - everyone else has got one and yes, I would jump off a cliff if everyone else was doing it, now shut up.

I showed the man my bike and he looked at me, looked at the bike and said "I'll take the seat down a couple of inches for you too, if you like". Well yes, sir, I would like, as it happens, and yes - the bike is for pre-teen boys. You know it and I know it, so quit the smirking and get on with the fixing. I'm short, and I like chunky things that look like boy things, not girl things. So sue me. Oh, and do you have any Hello Kitty bike bells, and some of those fancy-dan ribbons to hang off the handlebars?

posted by bandhag | 3/03/2003 11:46:00 PM


 

Oh, shitting fuck. I've been linked - and his comments are broken so I can't even beg for sweet, sweet anonymity like I did down below if he'd even read this pile of shite! Right, then. If you're reading this, you'd DAMN well better leave a shout out. Even if it's to tell me I'm shit and should delete this entire blog forthwith. Pretty please.

posted by bandhag | 3/03/2003 11:39:00 PM


 

unnnngh. Things are going WRONG. Uni have now decided my thesis may not be good enough if I hand it in in May like I want to and like they said I could, so they're talking about changing it to November. Which means I won't graduate until this time next year. Gutted. I did my undergraduate dissertation in..erm...nine days, so you can understand - I've not exactly rushed to get stuff done for this. Mea culpa, I should've done more, but I haven't. So now, I have three nights before my meeting with the course leader to do what looks like five months' work. Shit. Arse. Fuck. etc.

posted by bandhag | 3/03/2003 10:03:00 PM


Sunday, March 02, 2003

 

Just watched the new 24 on BBC3 - and all I have to say is: I facking knew it.

posted by bandhag | 3/02/2003 11:29:00 PM


 

Wooo, super-productive day today. I've done housework, done all my freelance research work, and cleaned up my bike ready to take to the fixy-man tomorrow. Actually, that's going to be harder than it sounds - I bought a superduper new pump, only it doesn't seem to fit onto my bike valves and in trying to make it fit, I let all the air out of my back tyre. Oops.

And now for the shittest part of the week - Sunday night... Mind you, what am I saying?! 24 is on tonight - woohoo! Am I alone in not knowing any of the names of the characters apart from the ones that were in the last series? Hmmm, what to do until it starts? Perhaps have another go through the Guardian's job paper. It's funny how, despite the fact that I'm supposedly training to be some IT "whizz", I'm looking at jobs that have nothing to do with that. Actually, it's not funny at all - it kind of makes sense, given that a) it's becoming more and more apparent that without any IT experience you've got bucklees of getting a job and b) Truth be told, I have no idea what kind of job I want or how the hell to get it. Worrying about jobs - yet another entry in the Things I Do Instead of Sleeping log...

posted by bandhag | 3/02/2003 06:58:00 PM


 

Arse. That'll teach me to try and blog when I've been drinking - clicked on 'blogger' instead of 'post and publish'. Nyurrr. Oh well, it wasn't very exciting anyway. Most important news today is that I've been of use to Stuart Kitchentable. Woot! Now all I need to do is change my own life and everything will be groovy. Baby.

posted by bandhag | 3/02/2003 12:50:00 AM


Saturday, March 01, 2003

 

wow, my archives are screwed, man. Any ideas on how to fix them? And how to have less blogs-per-page? I don't like the reminder of how slack I am... I ask these questions like there's anybody out there, when I actively don't encourage anyone to read this. Nyurrrr.

Anyway, I found the blog entry that I was talking about the other day, that I'd thought was lost (it was 2nd December). It was that same friend I played Booze Monopoly with last weekend. He has a veh cool video camera, that has night vision. Night vision, I tells ya! I'd buy that for a dollar. Have you ever seen Most Haunted on UK Living? There are apparently 'orbs' that get picked up on night vision films - they're like balls of light that will suddenly move across your line of vision, definitely not dust and supposedly they're either ghosts, or imprints of some entities in an alternative dimension, or some such. Aaaanyway, he was trying to film them. But the next day, he wouldn't let me see most of what we'd taped - a lot of the time he had the camera and I was half comatosed. He let me watch a tiny bit, but that was all. I know he was filming me and I know he knows I hate having my photo taken or anything like that. But I was still intrigued to know exactly what footage he'd got. It's like when he's showed me a video diary thing he'd done, and various paper diaries he's kept - he stops the tape or turns the page where he starts to talk about me. In the back of my mind, I've fretted about this quite a lot since. What does he think about me that he doesn't want me to see?

Finding out what other people really think about you, unedited: one of those questions you might not actually want answered. Discuss.

posted by bandhag | 3/01/2003 10:29:00 PM


 

Anal sex.

Agony aunts, and that Sex Tips for Girls programme, always say "if you want to try anal sex, the most important thing is to make sure it's nice and clean and your bowels are empty". What is the etiquette is for finding this out? If a man fancies trying it, does he have to ask his partner when was the last time s/he emptied her/his bowels, and whether s/he wiped properly? Or is it up to the receiver to take the initiative: "Oi, love, I've just been for a giant dump and given me arse a good wash - fancy taking me up the wrong 'un?"...? Or perhaps it has to be planned in advance - do gay men, for example, not leave the house of a Friday and Saturday night until they've managed to drop the kids off at the pool? If anybody reads this, and if you know, I demand you tell me - I need answers, dammit.

This has been brought to you as part of the "Things I Do Instead of Sleeping" presentation. (wondering over, not doing, just to clarify...)

posted by bandhag | 3/01/2003 07:58:00 PM
  me
  links
  archives
eXTReMe Tracker

All material on this site is copyrighted to the author. Reproducing material without the author's express permission is a breach of copyright.