| Hmm, long time no update.... |
[Jan. 28th, 2005|10:54 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | artistic | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Pretty Girls Make Graves: Head South | ] |
its been like, a month since i last wrote something on here....i've been THAT busy. if you call sleeping busy.
well todays been a right ol' mixture, as has the last several weeks, but especially today. i was surprisingly productive and keen at college this morning, then it all went downhill after i started pissing around with a digital camera at lunchtime, then popping into town to grab a pint and a pasty - resulting in me skipping an hour of my afternoon session thingy, then walking in to find out sally (my graphics lecturuer) never turned up in the first place, then having two hours of destruction derbys with those fun spinny chairs on wheels....then i had tea and went on msn. the rest is history, or something like that.
go and visit alex_rules....shes great, and non-shallow! which i dig:D haha, she'll love that.... |
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| much-of-a-muchness |
[Dec. 17th, 2004|02:56 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  bored | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Muse: New Born | ] |
this weeks been alright. yes i had a good birthday, thanks for asking - but something tells me that from now on, my birthdays arent going to be so special anymore *sniff*. i mean, think about it - the only landmark birthdays to come will be my 21st, 40th and 60th! soon i'll be getting wrinkles, sprouting hair where i shouldnt and calling kids whippersnappers - though i must say i am looking forward to the bit where i get bathed by hot nurses.... |
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| day in the life.... |
[Dec. 9th, 2004|08:41 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  horny | ] |
| [ | music |
| | My Chemical Romance - Drowning Lessons | ] |
arse-smacking, pulling down of trousers, writing of personal statements, cleaning of sinks, trying on of dresses, putting up of Page 3 posters, falling off of chairs....oh and a startled bus driver - just another normal day in the life of someone such as myself. if you don't like being bored to death than stop reading at the end of the next sentence, as i will explain everything. go on, entertain yourself for a bit.
i got a smacked bum-bum for commenting on the girls in my art group and how they were all boobs and bums and no personality. i have low-slung jeans so two of said girls hung onto my legs to try and pull them down, resulting in them being dragged to my lecture and me swaggering in a John Wayne fashion. the personal statement thing is self-explanatory as i want to go to university and be skint/live on Pot Noodles for the next ten years. the sink in the art room is akin to a cesspit, if cesspits contained old oil paint and a spoon. theres a prude in our art group so we littered his workspace with softcore porn. i was a silly boy and tried balancing on one chair leg - subsequently i fell off. and that startled bus driver? i spoke to him briefly getting on the bus this evening, which was enough time for me to accidentally spit my chewing gum in the direction of his face. he loved it, you could tell by the look on his face.
right, enough from me for today. peace out. |
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| Bottled up |
[Dec. 6th, 2004|10:55 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | drained | ] |
I do a college art course, but was i there this afternoon? Nope! If you just so happened to be toddling around Weymouth (people from the South of England would know where the hell this is) you would have stumbled across two scruffy guys drinking beers and cola on the beach....if you were to be in Weymouth about an hour later then you would have stumbled across two scruffy looking guys putting pebbles into the empty bottles. That was us using the stones as ballast for our messages in bottles, that was....so if anyone finds an empty bottle of Fosters Ice and an empty bottle of Coca-Cola washed up on your beach with the notes inside reading "Hi/Salut/Hallo/Beunos dias/Ciao, our names are Pete and Chris and if you find this bottle email us at *enclosed address*. Your country is rubbish, love you lots." then don't take it personally, it's not your fault that it's pants where you are.... |
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xchrisisonfirex's journal