i seem to blog most when i'm infected by the spores of green gunge and misery from well-wishers NO I DON'T WANT A FUCKING FRUIT CAKE NANA JUST STOP COUGHING ON ME. so yeah, here we are once more, me with too much time on my hands coupled with the inability to leave this skank pit and u wishing u'd never made eye contact with my fine self at that god awful house party/ disabled toilet/police line-up that led to the burden of this friendship...etc etc blah blah.
i fear that i have nothing new to tell you...a minor grasp of tawdry dogs sniffed some interest around yours truly, but in traditional terms i pushed them towards other prospects, still hugely uninterested by any male who does not fulfil every aspect of the 'hit list'...josh homme, ur still the only love in my life!
due to this weakened state, i've begun watching all the tv programmes i favoured during my jaded youth, such as eerie indiana YYAAAYY! dawsons creek and my current fave young americans, ten points if you watched the latter. my slave A came over last night, and i've been thinking about constructing some variety of bell aparatus that links her chamber to mine so she can scurry across the diagon alley linking our houses at anytime of the day (or night) to tend to my needs. its necessary, i'm sure she wouldn't mind. i mean, i am the centre of her life, and in the misty dawns as she dressses, no doubt she gazes upon the folds of polyester and plaid to think 'what would QUINN wear?'
began planning the nye party of the century (well of my road), so far the decorations consist of fairy lights...and balloons. if i want it to be featured in the harpers society pages, i need to step the game up. a sleb could be a good way to go....yes, why didn't i think of this sooner? now, dear readers, as you know i lead an exciting life so patrons of the arts and stage are at my beck and call. prepared to be amazed by this tale... ROY FROM CORRIE CAME ROUND MY HOUSE FOR TEA WHEN I WAS 8.....! i know right? truth be told, i was unimpressed at the time, mostly due to us having some sausage based tea and the decision was made, without my written consent, to give the tranny lover 3 pork fingers whilst i, a poor , starving (slightly overweight) child was given only 1... ABUSE. but no doubt, he'd love to come to the party of the screaming brat who may or may not have said I DON'T CARE WHO HE IS I WANT MY SAUSAGES to him....hmmm.
the more pressing matter is, what the jeff am i going to wear. i'm not pulling, it would be a bit trash at my own partay, so i need not worry about minor flags like the tights v. no tights debate ALWAYS TIGHTS, I HAVE SHOCKING LEGS, YUCK. now do i go retro, classic, current high street, abstract... guys just get to put a shirt and bit of deo on and they're done (my sweet gays u no i'm not talking about u, u make more effort than Cher and i love you for it x) a possible option is one of those tunic-y dresses with sheer sleeves and beaded cuffs...but its quite safe no? i've lost a tiny bit of weight, but i'm nowhere near comfortable in spandex, so i may have to return the leopard catsuit...maybe.
watched shallow hal last night. its not the best is it? the farrelly brothers can do alot better even though it had mainstream success. me, myself and irene now is far superior, when he first turns into hank?! haaaa.
i don't wanna get too preachy and attempt to make 'a point', i loathe writers who trial such tactics, but SH has multiple points of truth in though, for all women, and every girl who watched it sees a little of themselves in it i think, maybe i just feels it applies more to me. x
Rosemary to Hal: Look, I know what I am and I know what I'm not. I'm the girl who, you know, gets really good grades and who's not afraid to be funny. And I'm the girl who has a lot of friends who are boys and no boyfriends. I'm not beautiful, ok, and I never will be. And I'm fine with that. But when you go around saying I'm something that I'm not, it's just, it's just not nice.
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