JD's Dad: "Hey, I'm a man. You know what they say about men"
Turk: "They love the boobies"
JD's Dad: "That is correct, Christopher"
Love it. Love it love it love it.
Monday, June 28, 2004
Hey,
Was totally on Centre Court watching Tim play on Sunday. The atmosphere was off the hook (here's the hook, here's the atmosphere, that's a good foot, that is). We were starting chants and doing mexcian waves and cheering and booing and for one afternoon, all was blissfully right in the world. Good (Britain) triumphed over Evil (rest of the world, on this day represented by a dimunitive Moroccan), so there's your Hollywood ending and I expect the movie within a year.
The best part of the day was getting up at 4am. I'll rephrase that story a bit. The best part of the day was getting up at 4am and getting to Wimbeldon town at 7am and walking an hour and a half to the queue. No, thats still not good. The best part of the day was getting up at 4am and getting to Wimbeldon town at 7am and walking an hour and a half to the queue, and then finding out we were 10,376th in the queue, and then finding out Centre holds 11,000, and then finding out those at the front of the queue were there since 10pm the previous night, and then getting to see, in a really great seat, the EXACT SAME GAME. Oh yeah, thats the real best part.
07766027585. Wait is that my new phone number or my bill? Oh, right...
I'm back at work. That's ok I guess. I'm not doing nights just yet, so that's even better. I did get told I was "wicked" and that "damn, I have a sense of humour, boy" by my boss (who isn't even a hick) when I presented him with one grey and one white jacket and said "according to the tickets, these two jackets are identical, but I'm not convinced". I wasn't even joking.
Gonna watch some Scrubs. So the funniest program to come out of the States in 5 years. I love the janitor so much. I may start a fan club. Anybody want in?
Speak soon,
Craig
Was totally on Centre Court watching Tim play on Sunday. The atmosphere was off the hook (here's the hook, here's the atmosphere, that's a good foot, that is). We were starting chants and doing mexcian waves and cheering and booing and for one afternoon, all was blissfully right in the world. Good (Britain) triumphed over Evil (rest of the world, on this day represented by a dimunitive Moroccan), so there's your Hollywood ending and I expect the movie within a year.
The best part of the day was getting up at 4am. I'll rephrase that story a bit. The best part of the day was getting up at 4am and getting to Wimbeldon town at 7am and walking an hour and a half to the queue. No, thats still not good. The best part of the day was getting up at 4am and getting to Wimbeldon town at 7am and walking an hour and a half to the queue, and then finding out we were 10,376th in the queue, and then finding out Centre holds 11,000, and then finding out those at the front of the queue were there since 10pm the previous night, and then getting to see, in a really great seat, the EXACT SAME GAME. Oh yeah, thats the real best part.
07766027585. Wait is that my new phone number or my bill? Oh, right...
I'm back at work. That's ok I guess. I'm not doing nights just yet, so that's even better. I did get told I was "wicked" and that "damn, I have a sense of humour, boy" by my boss (who isn't even a hick) when I presented him with one grey and one white jacket and said "according to the tickets, these two jackets are identical, but I'm not convinced". I wasn't even joking.
Gonna watch some Scrubs. So the funniest program to come out of the States in 5 years. I love the janitor so much. I may start a fan club. Anybody want in?
Speak soon,
Craig
Thursday, June 24, 2004
I have nothing to say at this point. I do know want to make public my disapointment at losing another penalty shoot out. I feel I should keep private my personal opinions of the Swiss referee who, amongst looking like David Bowie, is evidently a Nazi with a perchant for stealing babies and robbing old ladies of their money, cars and hair-nets. I believe it is unnecessary to sympathise openly with Beckham and Vassel, who are simply the losers in a cruel and god-less game. Most of all, I will leave unarticulated my belief that in some parallel dimension, we are actually in the semi-finals, and that it is merely my mistake to be currently existing within this plane of reality.
Oh, quick joke. What's the connection between a RING DONUT and the ENGLAND FOOTBALL TEAM?
Both of them have NOTHING AT THE MIDDLE.
Ah ha.
Ah ha ha ha.
Ha.
*Dies. Alone.*
Oh, quick joke. What's the connection between a RING DONUT and the ENGLAND FOOTBALL TEAM?
Both of them have NOTHING AT THE MIDDLE.
Ah ha.
Ah ha ha ha.
Ha.
*Dies. Alone.*
So, you might ask, "why, Craig, are you still sitting around in a pair of boxer shorts and a t-shirt at half 12 in the afternoon?" To which I reply, "Well, sir, I am back home, for the summer, and I may not put on a pair of trousers again until October."
Got stuff to do. Maybe if I write it down here, I'll remember better:
1. Get new phone.
2. Get taxman to give me my money back.
3. Get changed.
4. Get haircut.
5. Get unpacked.
6. Get a career.
7. Get a family.
8. Get a fucking big television.
9. Get a three-piece suite on hire purchase in a range of fucking fabrics.
10. Get away at the end of it all, pishing your last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, fucked up brats you spawned to replace yourself.
11. Get a life.
And the semi-obscure pop culture references march on...
Wrestling came this morning by mail. The mailman is lovely for presenting me with new wrestling. What is more, it is mexican wrestling, and I cry tears of joy for mexican wrestling is better than Kanyon. Watched the second Ultimo vs. Shocker match, and it is great for a sub ten minute match. Shocker rules. Ultimo rules more. Ricky Marvin and Zumbido are crazy and fast and suicidal and I love it all. God bless the mexicans, dying for my pleasure on Mexican mimimum wages. I have watched so little wrestling in the past two months I may go into overload.
So, had extra few days in Oxford. I seems I have accidentally tripped and fallen and become an Oxford cliche (with metalhead tendencies and an overwhelming urge to lower the tone of any conversation) over the past two months. I now own a U of O t-shirt, and will freely say U of O, despite the obvious physical repurcussions. I want to punt and play croquet and go to arty or foreign films and walk around all day in flip-flops, irrespective of how cold, wet or flammable the immediate environment is. I want to shoot rowers in the foot with a harpoon and tell them that there is no 6 o'clock in the morning. If you ask us, do we not say "no, not Brookes"? If you lecture us, do we not doze quietly in a corner? If we study English, do we not end up at asking whether fries are wanted with that? And, if you charge us, do we not pass the bill on to our parents?
I have no earthly idea where that rant came from.
Things that I have done in the past two weeks that I didn't talk about. Went to watch the Imps and the Revue and laughed my ass off. The Imps are clearly bouncing off the walls of insanity, and are brilliant at what must be a nerve-wracking genre of comedy. The Revue came up with a plethora of excellent sketches. The hands-on sexual education class was tasteless and awesome. The Goodfellas clown sketch was pretty great. The First Class Hobo (now featuring the Lament of the Cannibal Walras) was a fine curtain closer. In between, there was plenty of good moments. Of course, there were slower sections, but that's how sketch shows go.
In the past week, we saw a Confidence Trois Intimes, which I thought was good, and Jersey Girl, which was OK, but not exactly Kevin Smith's best. It probably beats Jay and Silent Bob, but is nowhere near as good as Dogma or Chasing Amy. I need to see Clerks. Ben Affleck is a much better actor is these films, I notice.
That'll do. I promise regular updates. I realy, really promise.
Speak soon,
Craig
Got stuff to do. Maybe if I write it down here, I'll remember better:
1. Get new phone.
2. Get taxman to give me my money back.
3. Get changed.
4. Get haircut.
5. Get unpacked.
6. Get a career.
7. Get a family.
8. Get a fucking big television.
9. Get a three-piece suite on hire purchase in a range of fucking fabrics.
10. Get away at the end of it all, pishing your last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, fucked up brats you spawned to replace yourself.
11. Get a life.
And the semi-obscure pop culture references march on...
Wrestling came this morning by mail. The mailman is lovely for presenting me with new wrestling. What is more, it is mexican wrestling, and I cry tears of joy for mexican wrestling is better than Kanyon. Watched the second Ultimo vs. Shocker match, and it is great for a sub ten minute match. Shocker rules. Ultimo rules more. Ricky Marvin and Zumbido are crazy and fast and suicidal and I love it all. God bless the mexicans, dying for my pleasure on Mexican mimimum wages. I have watched so little wrestling in the past two months I may go into overload.
So, had extra few days in Oxford. I seems I have accidentally tripped and fallen and become an Oxford cliche (with metalhead tendencies and an overwhelming urge to lower the tone of any conversation) over the past two months. I now own a U of O t-shirt, and will freely say U of O, despite the obvious physical repurcussions. I want to punt and play croquet and go to arty or foreign films and walk around all day in flip-flops, irrespective of how cold, wet or flammable the immediate environment is. I want to shoot rowers in the foot with a harpoon and tell them that there is no 6 o'clock in the morning. If you ask us, do we not say "no, not Brookes"? If you lecture us, do we not doze quietly in a corner? If we study English, do we not end up at asking whether fries are wanted with that? And, if you charge us, do we not pass the bill on to our parents?
I have no earthly idea where that rant came from.
Things that I have done in the past two weeks that I didn't talk about. Went to watch the Imps and the Revue and laughed my ass off. The Imps are clearly bouncing off the walls of insanity, and are brilliant at what must be a nerve-wracking genre of comedy. The Revue came up with a plethora of excellent sketches. The hands-on sexual education class was tasteless and awesome. The Goodfellas clown sketch was pretty great. The First Class Hobo (now featuring the Lament of the Cannibal Walras) was a fine curtain closer. In between, there was plenty of good moments. Of course, there were slower sections, but that's how sketch shows go.
In the past week, we saw a Confidence Trois Intimes, which I thought was good, and Jersey Girl, which was OK, but not exactly Kevin Smith's best. It probably beats Jay and Silent Bob, but is nowhere near as good as Dogma or Chasing Amy. I need to see Clerks. Ben Affleck is a much better actor is these films, I notice.
That'll do. I promise regular updates. I realy, really promise.
Speak soon,
Craig
Friday, June 18, 2004
TERM!
Yes, that was me, calling it a term.
I guess that above sentence was necessary to explain the first one.
I guess the above sentence was not really necessary.
I guess I'm filling space by this point.
I guess I could continue this entire entry in this format.
I guess that wouldn't offend too many people.
I guess I should tell you all what's new.
I guess you all are off to have exciting holidays. I guess I'll be working, chilling and most importantly, seeing Cath. I guess that's the best thing in my world.
I guess you all know she's not going to be here next year. I guess thats crap. I guess some of you care. I guess those that don't can suck my balls.
I guess it been a fun year. I guess we're finalists now. I guess I'm excited. I guess I'm gonna have to make some decisions soon. I guess that's scary.
"I guess" looks weird and ugly having typed it so many times.
I guess that's it really.
I guess, of course, but I don't really know.
Craig
Yes, that was me, calling it a term.
I guess that above sentence was necessary to explain the first one.
I guess the above sentence was not really necessary.
I guess I'm filling space by this point.
I guess I could continue this entire entry in this format.
I guess that wouldn't offend too many people.
I guess I should tell you all what's new.
I guess you all are off to have exciting holidays. I guess I'll be working, chilling and most importantly, seeing Cath. I guess that's the best thing in my world.
I guess you all know she's not going to be here next year. I guess thats crap. I guess some of you care. I guess those that don't can suck my balls.
I guess it been a fun year. I guess we're finalists now. I guess I'm excited. I guess I'm gonna have to make some decisions soon. I guess that's scary.
"I guess" looks weird and ugly having typed it so many times.
I guess that's it really.
I guess, of course, but I don't really know.
Craig
Monday, June 14, 2004
An open letter to room 21, Trenamen. (I am hoping that somehow, through my legions of devoted readers, this gets passed on)
Sex is, as has often been remarked in the tabloids of the day, a beautiful thing. It is the ultimate expression of love, devotion and intimacy that two people can share. However, as I am beginning to learn, it is great to share between one another, and a complete other thing to share with half a building.
Last night I was awoken at 1am by screams. Not moans or gasps, but full out, terrifying, piecing, Psycho shower scene screams. Obviously my first thoughts were that the occupants of the above room were agreeing with each other a lot (Yes! Yes!) whilst trying to find a lost item (That's it! Right there!). It did not take much to work out that this was not the case. Then there's the banging. I mean this in the most tasteful sense. It's like he's a British au-pair he's slamming her so hard. I can actually hear to dignity escaping the building as the guy near on cries out. Simple fact #1: I don't want to know when another guy is climaxing. Then there's more screaming, this time with more directions. Simple fact #2: I don't want to know exactly where Girl would like it.
The other incredible thing is that it happened earlier that morning, and this lunchtime. Simpe fact #3: There is a time and place for open windows. By the sounds of it (ahahahaha), it probably isn't going to stop anytime soon. This is my blogg, for a diary of my life. I shouldn't have to be a log book of a Paris Hilton wannabe and her trusty sidekick, Fucktard.
It is not much I ask of you. Please, if you have the slightest inclination to worry about those people around you, I ask one small thing. Could you please turn the sex down?
Craig
Sex is, as has often been remarked in the tabloids of the day, a beautiful thing. It is the ultimate expression of love, devotion and intimacy that two people can share. However, as I am beginning to learn, it is great to share between one another, and a complete other thing to share with half a building.
Last night I was awoken at 1am by screams. Not moans or gasps, but full out, terrifying, piecing, Psycho shower scene screams. Obviously my first thoughts were that the occupants of the above room were agreeing with each other a lot (Yes! Yes!) whilst trying to find a lost item (That's it! Right there!). It did not take much to work out that this was not the case. Then there's the banging. I mean this in the most tasteful sense. It's like he's a British au-pair he's slamming her so hard. I can actually hear to dignity escaping the building as the guy near on cries out. Simple fact #1: I don't want to know when another guy is climaxing. Then there's more screaming, this time with more directions. Simple fact #2: I don't want to know exactly where Girl would like it.
The other incredible thing is that it happened earlier that morning, and this lunchtime. Simpe fact #3: There is a time and place for open windows. By the sounds of it (ahahahaha), it probably isn't going to stop anytime soon. This is my blogg, for a diary of my life. I shouldn't have to be a log book of a Paris Hilton wannabe and her trusty sidekick, Fucktard.
It is not much I ask of you. Please, if you have the slightest inclination to worry about those people around you, I ask one small thing. Could you please turn the sex down?
Craig
Friday, June 11, 2004
You know what really, really, really bites? Getting up for a nine o'clock lecture, lecturer no-showing, having nothing to do for two hours because of a class making a return to college pointless, and deciding that the most fun place to go is your subject library. Oh, and mosquitos. And hayfever.
Thankfully, my trusty sidekick, the Blogg, is here to keep me entertained. So, for the next 30 minutes, there's nothing but me, this keyboard, and some time to kill.
*Crazy-ass theme music (in my mind)*
10.37am: All is very quiet. A lecturer is photcopying behind me. I haven't checked, but I think he is photocopying his ass, to hand out in his lectures to all his students. They will spend the entire hour analysing why the picture of his ass works in theory, but not in practice. This is probably because he made too many ass-umptions. Oh, thats's good. He has just walked past, and makes a metallic clinking noise as he walks. I believe this is because his head is full of marbles. You know when people say someone has lost their marbles? He's got them.
10:42am: Some sits down at the computer next to me. She moves quickly to another. Note to self: put trousers back on.
10:44am: Two guys are talking. I can't work out what they are talking about, and they seem non-plussed about my inconspicuous whistling as I circle them. I think my cover is blown because I'm having to carry this computer round with me so I can continue to type. They have stopped talking.
10:50am: All the excitement has come to an end. I desperately try to find something entertaining to say, but words fail me. I know, I'll go get a book.
10:54am: All the books have such boring names. I don't know why people can't just try harder with titles. Instead of "Industrial Relations" why not "We hate you, you hate us, but some some reason, we're playing golf next tuesday?". Instead of "The economics of developing countries" why not "Poverty, Malnutrition and Exploitation is FUN!". Instead of the Bible, why not "History: the unlikely bits".
10:59am: I pull up my trousers and leave.
Speak soon,
Craig
*credits*
Thankfully, my trusty sidekick, the Blogg, is here to keep me entertained. So, for the next 30 minutes, there's nothing but me, this keyboard, and some time to kill.
*Crazy-ass theme music (in my mind)*
10.37am: All is very quiet. A lecturer is photcopying behind me. I haven't checked, but I think he is photocopying his ass, to hand out in his lectures to all his students. They will spend the entire hour analysing why the picture of his ass works in theory, but not in practice. This is probably because he made too many ass-umptions. Oh, thats's good. He has just walked past, and makes a metallic clinking noise as he walks. I believe this is because his head is full of marbles. You know when people say someone has lost their marbles? He's got them.
10:42am: Some sits down at the computer next to me. She moves quickly to another. Note to self: put trousers back on.
10:44am: Two guys are talking. I can't work out what they are talking about, and they seem non-plussed about my inconspicuous whistling as I circle them. I think my cover is blown because I'm having to carry this computer round with me so I can continue to type. They have stopped talking.
10:50am: All the excitement has come to an end. I desperately try to find something entertaining to say, but words fail me. I know, I'll go get a book.
10:54am: All the books have such boring names. I don't know why people can't just try harder with titles. Instead of "Industrial Relations" why not "We hate you, you hate us, but some some reason, we're playing golf next tuesday?". Instead of "The economics of developing countries" why not "Poverty, Malnutrition and Exploitation is FUN!". Instead of the Bible, why not "History: the unlikely bits".
10:59am: I pull up my trousers and leave.
Speak soon,
Craig
*credits*
Thursday, June 10, 2004
Hey, just a quick one.
If anyone can complete this music quiz, please let me know. It's bugging me. You listen to 5 intros, and have to type in the song and the artist. You score more for doing it quickly. I scored 151, and I knew 2, 4 and 5. Message me the answers if you get them.
Speak soon,
Craig
If anyone can complete this music quiz, please let me know. It's bugging me. You listen to 5 intros, and have to type in the song and the artist. You score more for doing it quickly. I scored 151, and I knew 2, 4 and 5. Message me the answers if you get them.
Speak soon,
Craig
Monday, June 07, 2004
If you didn't already know, I was attacked on my way back from the park today. I didn't see the little sod coming, but it was a calculated and vicious attack by an expert. I managed to break away before it became serious, but as a warning, watch out for yourself when your walking around the parks and out of the back gate. I think there might be a group of them, and if you see them, don't approach.
Actually, I managed a quick sketch of my assailant.
Speak soon,
Craig
Actually, I managed a quick sketch of my assailant.
Speak soon,
Craig
Hey,
Thank you all so much for going with the limerick challenge. If your minds weren't so small and weak, my life would be a lot less interesting. I am finding it hard to pick a winner. Dave's lost, but then he wasn't really trying, so really he was making a cool and ironic statement that further cements his intellectual prowess. I really liked Jamie's (Dave's friend) for impressive use of long words. Sarah's got progressively better, as everyone else descended into the dregs of the rhyming English language. I also liked Ed's and Cath's. Special mention to Tom, T'other Craig (whose first one was really good) and Alice to complete the cast list.
Yesterday's BBQ was really great. Loads of funny stuff, if I can even remember any of it. I'm sure it will be pieced back together. That being said, some memories and best left forgetten. I did get paid the greatest compliment: "Craig, this burger is not burnt to a crisp nor raw in the middle, and it does not taste like shit. Take it back." Current definition of Intrilligation: serving well cooked BBQ food. I'm sure we can manage at least one more before the end of term, right?
Speak soon,
Craig
Thank you all so much for going with the limerick challenge. If your minds weren't so small and weak, my life would be a lot less interesting. I am finding it hard to pick a winner. Dave's lost, but then he wasn't really trying, so really he was making a cool and ironic statement that further cements his intellectual prowess. I really liked Jamie's (Dave's friend) for impressive use of long words. Sarah's got progressively better, as everyone else descended into the dregs of the rhyming English language. I also liked Ed's and Cath's. Special mention to Tom, T'other Craig (whose first one was really good) and Alice to complete the cast list.
Yesterday's BBQ was really great. Loads of funny stuff, if I can even remember any of it. I'm sure it will be pieced back together. That being said, some memories and best left forgetten. I did get paid the greatest compliment: "Craig, this burger is not burnt to a crisp nor raw in the middle, and it does not taste like shit. Take it back." Current definition of Intrilligation: serving well cooked BBQ food. I'm sure we can manage at least one more before the end of term, right?
Speak soon,
Craig
Sunday, June 06, 2004
Quick one before my parents get here and discover the squalor I live in.
Trinity's production of Wind in the Willows was a whole bunch of fun. The traditional story of Toad falling from grace and reclaiming his home and learning his lesson takes a bit of a backseat to the fantastic Mole-Rat-Badger love triangle. It's the usual story: Mole meets Rat, Rat persuades Mole to come back to his, Rat and Mole becomes friends, Mole gets bored, Mole gets lost in wood, Rat saves day, Mole meets Badger, Badger steals Mole away from Rat, Rat gives up. There is, thankfully, no resolution to this sub-plot: that would be too horrific. There was too many funny lines: Ratty being told he should go to Oxford, Toad's salesman monologue on Toadhall, The judge and her assistant trying to decide a suitable punishment ("What did he call me?" "A big nose your honor" "Can we give him anything for it" "Oh Yes! (consults book) Twenty years!"). My personal favourite was when Rat was looking for a towel and someone off scene handed him one, and he looked puzzled at it being presented to him and went "Yes..." in a perfect English accent. The Chief Weasel was the coolest: "Norman, are you a happy weasel?" "Yes Chief" "And are you desirous of remaining so?". Best of all, for a production in the middle of a lawn, they worked to the limits really well, making small jokes about some of the obvious flaws as they went along ("That's it, run across the water there").
So, yeah, it was good.
Speak soon,
Craig
Trinity's production of Wind in the Willows was a whole bunch of fun. The traditional story of Toad falling from grace and reclaiming his home and learning his lesson takes a bit of a backseat to the fantastic Mole-Rat-Badger love triangle. It's the usual story: Mole meets Rat, Rat persuades Mole to come back to his, Rat and Mole becomes friends, Mole gets bored, Mole gets lost in wood, Rat saves day, Mole meets Badger, Badger steals Mole away from Rat, Rat gives up. There is, thankfully, no resolution to this sub-plot: that would be too horrific. There was too many funny lines: Ratty being told he should go to Oxford, Toad's salesman monologue on Toadhall, The judge and her assistant trying to decide a suitable punishment ("What did he call me?" "A big nose your honor" "Can we give him anything for it" "Oh Yes! (consults book) Twenty years!"). My personal favourite was when Rat was looking for a towel and someone off scene handed him one, and he looked puzzled at it being presented to him and went "Yes..." in a perfect English accent. The Chief Weasel was the coolest: "Norman, are you a happy weasel?" "Yes Chief" "And are you desirous of remaining so?". Best of all, for a production in the middle of a lawn, they worked to the limits really well, making small jokes about some of the obvious flaws as they went along ("That's it, run across the water there").
So, yeah, it was good.
Speak soon,
Craig
Friday, June 04, 2004
The limerick-arising is going well. Check out Tom's entry and the comments. If an entire conversation of limericks is on there by the BBQ tomorrow, with 20 seperate verses, then I'll buy cookies for everyone.
I think everyone has gone to see Harry Potter tonight. Me and Cath went on Tuesday. It's about 47 times better than the first two. For one, the acting is better. Except for Ron, who I would like to see incinerated. Snape still rules, and Lupin and Sirius are also great. The film just seems more mature, like Rowling's defenders have always said about her books. The first two films cam across very much as kids films. This one is really dark. The ending was handled really well, because I was convinced it would be hard to pull off in film - it was hard enough in a book. Plus, there's a load of little things that I really liked (such as the transistion shots with the Willow tree through the seasons, and little bits of magic that happen in the background.) I also noticed that all the students wear normal clothes most of the time, outside of lessons. It's stuff like that that take it past kid's film. Whoever the new director is, he deserves a heap load of praise.
I'm in a really good mood because my tutor told me he was really impressed with my work. He thinks I can get a first. I hope so too.
Old Friends is on now. Wooyay.
Speak soon,
Craig
I think everyone has gone to see Harry Potter tonight. Me and Cath went on Tuesday. It's about 47 times better than the first two. For one, the acting is better. Except for Ron, who I would like to see incinerated. Snape still rules, and Lupin and Sirius are also great. The film just seems more mature, like Rowling's defenders have always said about her books. The first two films cam across very much as kids films. This one is really dark. The ending was handled really well, because I was convinced it would be hard to pull off in film - it was hard enough in a book. Plus, there's a load of little things that I really liked (such as the transistion shots with the Willow tree through the seasons, and little bits of magic that happen in the background.) I also noticed that all the students wear normal clothes most of the time, outside of lessons. It's stuff like that that take it past kid's film. Whoever the new director is, he deserves a heap load of praise.
I'm in a really good mood because my tutor told me he was really impressed with my work. He thinks I can get a first. I hope so too.
Old Friends is on now. Wooyay.
Speak soon,
Craig
Thursday, June 03, 2004
Wednesday, June 02, 2004
I had some odd dreams last night.
Firstly, I remember a conversation with my mother where she exlained to Cath she didn't like swearing around the house, even though I did occasionally, and probably did with my friends. This made me feel fairly bad-ass. Oh yeah, I swear in front of my friends and my mother doesn't know. Check my bad self. This is loosely based on something Cath had orginanlly asked.
Secondly, and this is where my brain decides that rest is for the weak, I tune in to a chat show with Jack Dee and Eddie Izzard AKA the two funniest motherfuckers on the planet. Now I know at some point Cath's sister asked me if I had seen the Jonathon Ross show with Eddie Izzard on it. I hadn't. What is more, she told me that both were competeting to be the funniest. Therefore, IN MY MIND, it was an actual contest like Robot Wars or that new one I saw last week with virtual reality robots and challenges. There was a point system and a screen that displayed all the relevant statistics on the contest. Bearing in mind that I had seen none of the show that presumably triggered this dream, my brain sets about creating the contest with at least one bit from Eddie and Jack. I don't remember the jokes, but I do remember it being hilarious. How my brain managed to work that one past me I don't know. I must just be a natural comic.
...
Well, that's my mamma.
Speak soon,
Craig
Firstly, I remember a conversation with my mother where she exlained to Cath she didn't like swearing around the house, even though I did occasionally, and probably did with my friends. This made me feel fairly bad-ass. Oh yeah, I swear in front of my friends and my mother doesn't know. Check my bad self. This is loosely based on something Cath had orginanlly asked.
Secondly, and this is where my brain decides that rest is for the weak, I tune in to a chat show with Jack Dee and Eddie Izzard AKA the two funniest motherfuckers on the planet. Now I know at some point Cath's sister asked me if I had seen the Jonathon Ross show with Eddie Izzard on it. I hadn't. What is more, she told me that both were competeting to be the funniest. Therefore, IN MY MIND, it was an actual contest like Robot Wars or that new one I saw last week with virtual reality robots and challenges. There was a point system and a screen that displayed all the relevant statistics on the contest. Bearing in mind that I had seen none of the show that presumably triggered this dream, my brain sets about creating the contest with at least one bit from Eddie and Jack. I don't remember the jokes, but I do remember it being hilarious. How my brain managed to work that one past me I don't know. I must just be a natural comic.
...
Well, that's my mamma.
Speak soon,
Craig
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