Too busy with stuff
Yeah, I’m too busy with stuff. It’s sort of true. I mean, it’s not untrue, but I’m a terrible time manager, and I’m also easily distracted thanks to the inherent limitations of my walnut-sized, mono-tasking brain, which hasn’t quite evolved to the exacting standards defined by mammalian evolution and can get quickly waylaid by, for example, trying to help some occasionally dubious Romanian girl install a webcam. Actually, if you managed to make your way through the convolutions of that opening sentence you’ll probably come to the conclusion that I need very much to write, and you would be right. About that. I do. Need to write. More.
Something more to write about: Celebrating the return of Tee of LTD fame with Lids, Dee, Kenny, Tee, myself and some sleeping people. And a ridiculous amount of drink. Face licking did in fact happen, much to everyone’s embarrassment. 6th October 2006. Click image to view larger version
There’s a big post on the way about Romania, of course, and about my new camera, and how both relate to each other – a juxtaposing of technology, purpose, result and criminal icompetence – in The Great Hard Drive Failure Which Resulted In The Loss Of My Photos story. It’s not a great story, it’s not even a good story, but I’ve been telling everytone anyway, because I broadcast practically every thought that crosses my mind, and a lot of those thoughts are about whatever happened to me last.
My mother attempting to hide from the all-seeing camera. I drove the car, too, which as we now know wasn’t as big a drama as I thought it would be. Almost. 7th October 2006. Click image to view larger version
I’m getting the hang of driving in what is for all intents and purposes (and certainly legally) my car, a Mazda 121 five door, previously owned by my mother. The whole car thing is very stressful for me, though oddly enough it’s not the driving that bothers me, it’s owning a car part of the deal. Still, driving is fun, and with it I can realise my dream of visiting Borris on Ossory quite soon.
There’s a few other nuggets too, and time will tell if I’ll get to write about them.
Always thought that Borris on Ossory was a geat childrens name. Or perhaps a title for a Homo – erotic film set in rural ireland the main plot revolving around to Farmers unfufilled erections for each other, the sub plot being about dandruff!
BORRIS ON OSSORY.
In a world powered by cattle prices, two men found more than scour!
Sorry to be a pedant lads, but it’s actually Borris-in-Ossory, Ossory being the townland.
In other news, there is a very blurred line between the identities of Kev and our own, our very own, Boy George… (spotted by C. Moore)
http://tinyurl.com/yjcjuf
Freaky!
Christ, David, that is a bit frightening!
And the Boy George link is pretty strange too. I’d pedantically like to point out that years of not abusing drugs and not getting it up the shitter have left me in a better state of repair than Mr. George. ‘C. Moore’ is asking for trouble, you’d want to keep her under some sort of control, or indeed domination, in which case take some photos and them to send me rather discretely please.
I always thought there was a much stronger resemblance to be found between kev and christopher biggins. Sorry Kev, I can honestly say that no offence is intended.
http://www.tfa-group.com/artistmanagement/Rosemary%20Shrager/Images/ChrisBiggins.jpg
AND
http://tanithsjosephsite2.homestead.com/files/ChrisBiggins.jpg
BTW I used to have a book called “The Bed That Went Whoosh! to Borris in Ossory”. It was one of a series of Irish written/published children’s books in which a child’s bed would ‘whoosh!’ to various locations of Irish historical and cultural significance. Quite.
d.
“Borris in ossory” thats an even better title for a homo erotic thriller