wakko101's Diaryland Diary
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
drink bacardi, like it's your birfday
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, KAREN!!!!
I miss you, I love you, and I wish I was there to celebrate with you!
(I'm totally having a couple of beers in your honour tonight)
Oh...and try to take it one bottle at a time...
Cheers!
7:35 p.m. - 2004-06-30
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
damn red sock!
The funniest thing in the world happened to me last night – I had a movie moment. You know those moments in time, those clichéd situations, that you think only happen in the movies or on TV. One of those.
I heard the people who live above me having sex.
I don’t think I could ever adequately describe to you the smile that came to my face when I realized what the grunts coming from my ceiling were really all about. I was reading at the time, which was fortunate for the silence, I might never had this little experience otherwise. It was mostly the woman I heard(“oh Oh OH OOOOOOOOOH!”), just a couple of tough groans from the lad, and it didn’t last very long, I can only assume they were reaching their…ahem…climax when I got wind of their escapades.
I listened intently for a long time. I might have felt like a pervert, but it was just too funny for me not to! When I couldn’t hold it in any longer, I giggled so much I thought I might be regressing into childhood. I have a feeling I’m not going to be able to get those cries of passion out of my head for quite some time, along with one other thought: God, I hope I don’t sound like that when I’m having sex.
Thinking about it, that's not the only movie moment I've had since I arrived in London. I'll not go into too much detail, suffice it to say that I'm going to have get used to pink socks and undies for a little while.
11:01 a.m. - 2004-06-29
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
you know you're getting old when...
In the past three weeks, I have experienced two extremely disturbing phenomenon which have left me with one conclusion: that I am, in fact, getting old.
The first was a dark, stray hair sticking out of my nose. I’m sorry, but when exactly did I turn into my grandfather? Hairs should not be protruding from my nose until I’m at least 40 and even then should have the decency to creep out on only the rarest occasion. I realize that I do not have a small, cute button nose, but I don’t think that’s any excuse for it to hide its shame in some sort of weird nasal comb-over. As I plucked the errant hair from its home, I had a frightening image of my middle-aged self – a pathetic freak show of a woman, with not-so-small tufts of hair sticking out of her every orifice. Even the Bearded Lady would look at me, shake her head and tell herself “Well, things could be worse.” Thank God for tweezers.
The second occurrence was actually quite similar, although this time I was spared the convenience of finding it myself – a grey hair. I went to the hairdresser yesterday with not a care in the world, and left feeling like a hag. What kind of psycho, mind-f*cking dickhead of a hairdresser announces to his customer that he’s found a grey hair? One that doesn’t like receiving tips, is my guess. My older brother began getting grey hairs when he was in his mid-twenties and I made a lot of fun of him for it. Now I figure I’m in trouble. Men at least have the advantage of looking “distinguished”. Women, on the other hand, simply look Old.
And so there you have, I figure I am now over the hill and on my down. Just around the corner are crows feet, laugh lines, sagging boobs, varicose veins and an assortment of other pleasant proofs of aging. I can see my future and its currently weighing the pros and cons of plastic surgery.
3:59 p.m. - 2004-06-27
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
other diaries: |