I think 17 years is a good lifespan for a black metal tubeframe Habitat bed, don't you?
Got stuck about twenty minutes ago and had to call my father to hit the bedbase with a hammer as I couldn't get it apart. Tis done now, and I have to get the double bed upstairs into the loft...
Why do I do these things when I'm in the severe gut-ache totm?? Peculiar!!
My mother says its because I'm nesting - I think it's because I'm trying to distract myself from the pain... Or shift those cramps quicker? Dunno. Sorry lol!
Saturday Update: The Damned were bloody fantastic, got right down the front to see up Captain Sensible's skirt - he came on in a schoolgirl outfit for the encore... And ate a potnoodle onstage, and played a kids plastic double-necked toy guitar then said 'that's how easy it is for The Darkness!!'.
Mike and I met up with wildgift93 and Simon, plus Glenn, missbumpkin and the rest - went to MDC Punk Nite and saw Chris, Kev etc etc etc... Fed our faces at Jakes on the way home... Blah di blah. Lots of lovely mornings/days and crappy nights at work...
Other Highlights: Going out to Revelstoke Park and spending time on the beach collecting rocks ('Hudson' is now a teapot stand - I didn't name him) and walking through the woods where Mike had a go on ALL the kids rope swings on various trees along the path - and my parents looking on bemused... and other such entertaining things *grin*.
Work-related highlight: I am in the doghouse and everybody hates me.
Fat cranky (actually rather intimidating/scary) cow at work brought in a LOUD cd player and a SEVERELY CRAPPY Xmas cd - Cliff Richard twice for starters...
She put it on at the start of shift without asking anyone - all her cronies were enjoying it...
SEVEN of us (that's a third of the team) HATED it... I found myself singing along dodgy alternative lyrics out of sheer enraging boredom... Then I got told off by Mary ("I was brought up not to spoil other peoples fun")... And sulked off with Jui-ehh!!! to sit in another part of the MDEC for the next hour.
The cd player was turned off by the manager - apparently telling them that 7 other people didn't want it intruding during work (like being stuck in a nightmare xmas queue in Argos) and could they turn it off, please. And because I was the one that happened to be the voice for the third of the team in telling the manager we didn't want it on, I've been singled out and bitched at all the rest of the week by fat cow's cronies...
Perhaps I shouldn't have been singing 'last christmas I gave you my heart but the very next day I said I was gay'... or ending the lines of 12 Days of Christmas with 'and I won't pay your bail this year' and 'and I'm fed up with you stalking me' and such like... and worse.
Ho hum. I saw the funny side anyway... And Mary SPOILED MY OWN FUN by bitching at me. So ner!!
Thankfully, Mike bought me a new personal cd player yesterday (mine had broken a month ago) so now I can plug in and zone out - which is exactly what I did for last nights 12 hour shift (6pm - 6am)... Sheer and Utter Bliss!!!
Ok, so back to destroying my room upstairs...
THIS IS BRILLIANT!!
(pilfered from trashcan17
A Gothic Night Before Christmas
'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through our house
was blasting the "St. Vitus Dance" by Bauhaus;
Torn fishnets were draped on my forearms with care,
And two cans of Aquanet applied to my hair;
My thoughts were of graveyards, and horror and dread,
Black visions of pain and despair in my head;
And Bianca, whose face was as pale as the moon,
Had thrown up her arm for this evening's swoon,
When out by the gravestones there came such a clatter,
I sprang from the coffin to find out the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a ghost,
Expecting to find a dark devilish host.
The moon on the breast of the uncaring snow
Threw ominous shadows on objects below,
When, before my tormented eyes did traverse,
But a gorgeous black Crane & Breed carved-panel hearse,
With a gaunt, shrouded driver, who filled me with fear,
And eight skeletal creatures that might have been deer.
More rapid than vultures his coursers they came,
And his deep Andrew Eldritch voice called them by name;
Now, Murphy! Now, Morgoth! Now, Torment and Woe!
On, Dreadful! On, Lovecraft! Mephisto and Poe!
To the top of the gravestones where fog wisps its breath!
With a weight on my soul I consign you to death!
As dead leaves that before hellish hurricanes fly,
When they flutter like giant bats' wings to the sky,
So up to the crypt-top the coursers they leapt,
While dearest Bianca, like death, still but slept.
And then, to my horror, I heard on the roof
The clicking and scratching of each bone-white hoof.
As I drew in my arm, and was whirling around,
Down the ebony chimney he came without sound.
He was clad all in black, and he looked oh-so-goth,
A billowy ensemble of crushed velvet cloth;
His boots were knee-high, quite buckled and zipped,
And the Spandex and fishnets 'round his legs were ripped.
His eyes glowed with bluish fire, deathly and cold,
A black eye-liner'd face neither youthful nor old.
A broad lipless mouth drawn with torment and hurt,
And his sorrowful face was as white as my shirt.
A smoldering cigarette tight in his grasp,
Its smoke curling eerily 'round his cloak clasp;
His gaunt frame was topped with long ebon hair,
And a sharp scent of brimstone and cloves choked the air.
His arms were outspread in the shape of a cross,
And I quailed when I saw him, feeling sorrow and loss;
He narrowed his eyes with a twist of his head,
And I felt the full weight of his angst and dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his task,
Left some Dead Can Dance CD's; before I could ask,
A single tear fell across his aquiline nose,
And then, like an angel, up the chimney he rose;
He sprang to his hearse, to his team he then hissed,
And away they all drifted like early dawn's mist.
But I heard him intone, ere he vanished from sight,
"Gothic Christmas to all, and to all a good fright!"
| You scored as Cocaine. Be careful, this drug is very addicting, and you can build a tolerance quickly. |
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| You scored as Love Machine Cat. Look out! The love machine is on the loose. You might want to take off a night of permiscuity and go get your junk checked out. Nothing sadder than a cat with herpes.|
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