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Below are the 11 most recent journal entries recorded in
bites_the_sun's InsaneJournal:
| Friday, December 28th, 2007 | |
| 10:48 pm | |
| Thursday, December 27th, 2007 | |
| 8:26 pm | Guess the forumzer time! Oblivious Moo in CF forum: ...... squee squee squee mah baby is so fine her big chubby thighs fill me with glee oh squee! Me: Shut up about your kid's fat legs, eh? Wrong forum, right? Oblivious Moo: PM: I WILL NOT TOLERATE YOU INSULTING MAH CHILD NO NO NO. ME: PM: You're the one who said she was fat, you daft bitch. Enraged net-mommies issuing threats via PM to those who would disrespect their child and themselves as a parent are so 2005. |
| 2:16 am | |
| Tuesday, December 25th, 2007 | |
| 9:29 pm | I know, I know; long time no post. the past three weeks can be summed up by a succession of ailments: 'flu, conjunctivitis, a disgustingly snotty, sinus-y cold and finally, bursting a blood vessel in my left eye. It's as if my immune system decided to get three years' worth of illness out of the way over the course of a single month. Hence, I've spent the past weeks feeling like a shambling corpse, and looking like a skinned one with fishbones up its nose. However, after a total of about 20 hours sleep over the weekend, I'm more or less recovered and looking vaguely human again. So, on with some catch-up. Work has been stupid, but I've been left in charge a bit which means I'm allowed to bitch people out when they fuck up and try to have our end take the blame for their totally fucking inexcusable mistakes (like diverting entire floors of phones to a collection of dead numbers then going out for piss-ups in Preston, for starters). I'm good at bitching people out. Yes, who'd have thunk? Getting grovelling apologies is quite satisfying. Whee! Christmas so far has been fine. It's been low-key, without any family squabbles. My sister was in a superb mood for some reason I can't work out, but I'm happy to go with it. I got some nice presents: paperbacks of The Grifters, George Orwell's Keep the Aspidistra Flying, Pratchett's Thud!, Inside The Victorian Home (it's fascinating, I swear), Lindsay Clarke's The War At Troy, William Boyd's Restless; the collector's tin 5-disc edition Blade Runner DVD set, Shrek 2 DVD and a Kinks Greatest Hits CD. What the fuck did we do before Amazon wishlists? Were presents shittier or merely more surprising before the intertubes? Discuss! I want to go to Eastercon - Tanith Lee and Neil Gaiman, two of my favourite people/authors are going to be there. I really, really want to go. I have the days off from work, but accommodation issues (hotel being all booked up) may prevent me. I need to email the organisers after Xmas and see if there's any room-sharing folks left. The Xmas Who tonight was a turd and a half. I've spent the weekend, when not sleeping, watching DVDs of season 2 of The Shield. I know Who is a different genre and has a different target audience, but I'd like to sit the writers/producers of new Who down and make them watch The Ongoing Adventures of Vic Mackey and Co and other various American imports, such as BSG, just to get them to realise how woefully fucking inadequate a product they're putting out and how bloody awful the writing is. It's insulting even to kids at this point - just relentless, recycled mawk, gormless plotting, cheap angst and pointless running around set to orchestral bellowing. I just cannot understand what people get out of episodes like the one just shown - and it appears some people do get something out of it given the reaction on the LJ Who community. Did we watch the same episode? Maybe all some people want from a show these days is Kylie Minogue in a waitress outfit and fuck-me boots, fat women in comedy outfits committing suicide and David Tennant doing his by now standard 'Soooo sorry!' emo-gurn routine, but my standards are, unfortunately, a trifle higher. Additional: I've been reading Charlie Brooker's collected Screen Burn columns for the past week and it has only increased my pure, untrammeled lust for the man, or at least, his sentences. There was a line about Ann Widdecombe having a 'face like a haunted cave in Poland' that had me practically soil myself on the number 84 bus last week. Now, that's entertainment. Who producers take note. |
| Wednesday, December 19th, 2007 | |
| 8:13 am | Woke up to find that my left eye (the one that was infected last week and has been on the mend) is full of blood. JOY TO THE WORLD. |
| Monday, December 17th, 2007 | |
| 11:42 pm | I has germs. Ugh. After the 'flu from hell over last weekend, I developed a startlingly gruesome case of conjunctivitis, requiring me to smear antibiotic goo into my eyeballs four times a day for as week. Now, I've developed a fucking cold with throat, snot and phlegm everywhere. I want it not to be winter anymore, please. |
| Sunday, December 9th, 2007 | |
| 11:40 pm | Still ill. Just not as much. May call off work tomorrow. I'm already officially over my annual sick-leave allowance (a whole 3 days!) threshold as of my second day anyway. May as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb, etc. Oh, right, and random (old) LJ link of the day: this guy is my hero. There's a alley on my way to work between two sets of very nice houses. It leads into a sort of leafy cut-through which bypasses other nice house on its way to a small sheltered housing development. I don't know what kind of low-brained, low-cultured, not fit-to-live-in-houses type of personages have taken themselves to move into the area recently, but there has been a huge surge in not just stupid littering of bottles, cans and those fucking polystyrene fast food containers, but active tipping of unwanted household goods - old clothes, books, bikes, beds (the first two of which there are drop-points for within walking distance, the second the council will take away if called) into both areas in the past year. You know it's bad when passing mid-afternoon drunks accost you to commiserate with and complain to you about the disgusting fucking state of the area. The other day, on my way to work in the windy, rainy morning, I found the alley blocked by a flapping, discarded plastic Twister mat, which, covered in water, provided a very lovely slip hazard to anyone passing by. Scattered around it were discarded GSCE study guides and other teen/kiddie crap (oh hay breeders!). I had to pick it up and throw it aside (not actually that easy given I had two bags and an aversion to wrestling with large, rain-covered bits of kiddie crap), getting dirty rain water on myself, to pass by safely, which of course, made me double-plus unhappy. If there had been anyone around who looked remotely responsible for this standing near I'd have been inclined to make them eat it. Then I would have located their children, dipped them in glue, rolled them over an old carpet and sold them as cancer monkeys to the nearest lab. That's how much I hate litterers. Shit in your own home if you must - shit in my streets and my environment and you've no-one to blame if I or anyone else eventually rubs your nose in it and makes you cry. ANYWAY. I have entertained fantasies of putting up some very rudely-worded notice about how Tippers Are All Cunts and Stunted Little Bell-Ends (Breeder Tippers Doubly So) but I think it would probably be legally safer to call the council. It's getting to be a health hazard down there, what with dirty fucking nappies (o hay breeders once more) making an appearance this week. But I'd much prefer the spectacle of a large, flamboyant drag artiste publicly shaming and intimidating the fuck out of the culprits and giving them special nightmares for the rest of their waking lives. Wouldn't you? Oh and: I hate this herd behavior and collective code of silence among people, even when they're pissed off about something. This pisses me off too about this country - how most people will sit collectively seething and no-one will do speak up even when they are in the absolute clear majority and won't get beaten up (ok, again, hard to tell with the number of mentally unstable, overgrown toddlers around) but still, it rankles. I told - yes, told - some dumb, over-mascara-ed, under-intelligent, peroxided little bitch on the bus to turn her fucking speaker phone off on the bus the other day - yes and she did, with a look of slack-jawed incomprehension at how anyone could possibly object to her blaring tinny fucking princess pop music at 100 decibels on a bus at 8am. I knew if I didn't, no other bugger would - they'd just sit there all mute and seething (in fact they already were) and complain at length to anyone BUT the person who most needed to hear it. I mean, we all have to pick our battles, but there's generally a battle or two most of us of sound body, large gob and an overwhelming sense of pissiness can win. |
| 9:44 pm | Flupocalypse 07. Yergh. I haven't felt this awful since I had glandular fever (that's Brit-talk for mononucleosis) back in '92. Like, wobbly-legged, washed-out, energy-sapped, randomly achey and generally utterly pathetic. I had started to feel better yesterday afternoon but instead of a decent night's sleep was treated to fever redux. S'all right; I gave up on sleep, watched Tank Girl and lay there whining gently, like a Dickensian orphan having his porridge bowl confiscated, instead. Passed the time, y'know. Slowly. This is a stupid, weird flu, and in the interest of paranoia and slightly less boring blog entries I'm going to assume it's yet another in a long-line of oopses/oh shits/tee hees from Porton Down or whichever of those unsecret government farm disease lab down south has recently been leaking diseases on a weekly basis, seemingly for fun and profit. See, my symptoms, if added to my recurring itchy eye-thing that reoccured last week basically add up to a watered-down sort of bird 'flu. And I did eat chicken last week. Yes, I'm feeling a trifle more perky now than earlier on, which I suspect is mainly due to caffeine ingestion that much else. My sum total of food ingested today is one soft-boiled egg and one warm mince pie and that in itself implies I'm not quite right. Anyway, I sit here in anticipation of what the virus will visit on me tonight. Will I leak myserious fluids or have my head spin 180 degrees on my shoulder or will it be another boring evening of hugging my space heater like it's Christian Bale's twin brother? |
| Friday, December 7th, 2007 | |
| 7:06 pm | I've spent the past two days at home with ze 'flu. The whole bad throat, tight chest, fever, disorientation and muscular pains thing, you know. Last night was particularly disgusting; I spent the whole night either thrashing around sleeplessly, unable to get comfortable because of my aching back and head or lying there dozing and having mild hallucinations due to fever, finally ending up breaking a massive sweat that soaked my bedclothes at 6am. Now the fever has gone, I'm down to a racking dry cough, a tight-ish chest and feeling like a wet rag. I HATE the British winter, given that it's mostly comprised of getting up in the dark, going home in the dark, icy, miserable weather and catching loads of big fat germs. I'll gladly swap with any of you who live in a more civilised climate November-February next year. |
| Wednesday, December 5th, 2007 | |
| 12:52 am | Fuck, yes. Hero of the Day: Sampat Devi, leader of Uttar Pradesh's Pink Gang.  "Village society in India is loaded against women. It refuses to educate them, marries them off too early, barters them for money. Village women need to study and become independent to sort it out themselves." The Pink Gang:  "The pink women of Banda shun political parties and NGOs ... Two years after they gave themselves a name and an attire, the women in pink have thrashed men who have abandoned or beaten their wives and unearthed corruption in the distribution of grain to the poor. They have also stormed a police station and attacked a policeman after they took in an untouchable man and refused to register a case. "Nobody comes to our help in these parts. The officials and the police are corrupt and anti-poor. So sometimes we have to take the law in our hands. At other times, we prefer to shame the wrongdoers," says Sampat Pal Devi, between teaching a "gang" member on how to use a lathi (traditional Indian stick) in self defence." Love how further on in the article, the reporter assures us they're not 'man-bashing feminists' because Devi says 'Women need men to live with'. Anyone with a brain can see this is a statement of fact in rather than a philosophy of life. In India, economics and culture require that for a poor woman to survive, she must be married. That systematic oppression is what they're attempting to fight. And THAT is feminist by definition. |
| Tuesday, December 4th, 2007 | |
| 8:34 pm | Don't be stupid, be a smarty, come and join the ex-El-JAY party! Six Apart was having trouble. What a sad, sad story! Needed a buyer to restore LJ's former glory. Where, oh, where was it? Where could that new business be? They looked around ... And then they found ... The biz for you and me! And now it's .... Springtime for SUP and its friendy-friends Putin is happy, not gay! Poll violationsthey took place Look out! Here come ze blog po-lice! ...... |