shheesshh

can tell i'm bored, i'm blogging. have returned once more to the 7th layer of hell, Nuneaton. if dante had been witness to this pinnacle of class and style, he'd have no doubt re-thought his divine comedy. time seems to wade through honey here, a solitary hour stretched into a laborious, gruelling transformation spanning weeks.

I haven't even got any male candy to occupy other thoughts. Nope, its just me, the rentals and 2 obese guinea pigs watching fuck all on a 52 inch tv, complete with cinema surround.  its all getting a bit papa roach tbh.

the pros and cons are on an even scale.
pro : have rediscovered interpol.
con : saw my dad naked the other day.
pro : catching up on alot of reading.
con : can't write anything decent here.
pro : detoxed my liver
con : have eaten all of the food designated for the next global disaster relief effort.
pro : getting to watch flight of the conchords everyday.
con : if i'm not up by 11, my mum bangs the door with the hoover, then asks innocently ' oh did i wake you?'
pro :  eating other food groups than cereal, malted milks and tequilla.
con : i have to communicate with people more often than i usually would prefer. for example, i do not enjoy talking until 1pm, but small talk is apparently mother's favourite past time. GOD.

had some fairly decent presents, no pony though. apparently kitchen roof needed doing, so the money they would have used to buy tabitha went on that. some people are so facking selfish.
managing to wile away some time on here, mostly amusing myself with smosh and the midnight beast, a touch of south park thrown in for equal measure.

there is a minor theory i've been tossing around for a while though. just recently, i've really gotten back into music, and theres a point where you have to choose music over films, tv everything. it just takes up too much time to bother with any other outlet. it begun with me assessing the two types of 'music' fans.
the first claims to be into one or two genres, listens to radio one, buys their compact discs from hmv where they chat with other one's about the genius of brandon flowers and enjoy dancing around to consumer dance at the local discoteque, shandy in hand. 
the second becomes a bit religious about music, actually losing days finding new bands etc whilst being able to recall a specific rundown of favourites and the exact point in life where they first stumbled upon these gems, and goes out of their way to visit the really good but forgotten vinyl shop in temple street, donning massive headphones to avoid inane converse about what they are listening to.
i fear i have fallen into the latter. i used to be a one, but something changed. i think radio one pushed me to my limits. after 7, fine its all good. but before that, its become a murky wasteland for chart filler, all of which offer shit lyrics over a generic backing and frankly shoddy harmonies. YES I'M LOOKING AT YOU PIXIE LOTT. this isn't me being a snob, i love really GOOD pop. but ooo echo and the bunneymen just came on....i digress, mainstream music is on its last legs. britney got fat, the strokes clean and  dido well she's dead i shot her. but let's  keep that between us
so i don't know whether to continue my pilgrimage in to the centre of the melodic universe, with ian curtis and lou reed as tour guides, or give in before its too late and go back to only having a passing interest rather than an obsessive need. hmmm. x

p.s. those of you claim to be into 'all sorts', i'd rather spit on you than share an ipod.