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I watched Shark Attack 3: Megalodon last night. A gem of a film, really. Well, not really. Shit, but funny, and probably intentionally retarded.
I stayed in Leeds Monday night, as I was there fitting some PCs. I came to get washed this morning and realised I'd left my razor and stuff in my bag. I reached in, and felt a weird intense sensation on my left middle finger. I withdrew my hand, to see my finger gashed very deeply and pissing blood, where I'd managed to slide it down the side of my razor. Not a great start to the day, all told.
Plus I then misjedged how cold it was outside, and wrapped up like I was going on an arctic expedition. Halfway through cycling to work, I started to sweat, intensely. By the time I reached work there was a huge sweat patch down my back and under each arm.
Could the day get any worse? I'll keep you posted..
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When I was a kid I was obsessed with women's handbags. I would pull old handbags from my mum's wardrobe and go through them looking for nick knacks. If you remember from the good old days of too much responding to everything, I thought tampons were premium bonds so I would pull out things like those nuggets of white gold, haul out half-penny pieces or weird looking hair grips, fondling the rubber tip or pinging their springiness. I'd order my booty neatly on the floor then carefully put it all back and replace the bag, leaving no one any the wiser. One day I put my little hand into a red leather number and pulled it out the same colour as the scarlet hide. My mum has stowed a naked razor blade in the bottom of her bag. Like some crazy streetwalking crack ho out of Fort Apache: The Bronx or something. I had to go to hospital. When I asked her why she kept this lethally sharp, unprotected object in her bag, my mum replied "You never know when it will come in handy."
Now, when anyone asks me to fetch something from their handbag (woof), I always fetch the bag, rather than delve into the violent innards myself. I feel you pain, Ringo.
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I was in a Home Depot in the UK (does the UK even have Home Depots?). Anyway, I spotted you and the missus pushing your big orange cart through the store, shopping for various gardening supplies (you had a hose and a rake in your cart). I followed you both through the store for a bit, then I casually strolled by and caused our carts to collide. I got up in your face and started yelling at you about being more careful. You cowered in fear, afraid I was going to get physical. At that point I said "Misc...it's me...ralph". You smiled, we hugged. Then I woke up.
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I've ordered some new tyres for my bike. Apparently these ones are almost totally immune to punctures through the tread. here's hoping!
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I dremt that I was working at home, and I heard my wife come in, called out hello to her, and then turned round at it was my ex, who said 'it's okay, I'm here to sort everything out' - I spent the rest of the dream trying to explain to her that we weren't actually together anymore, that I was married and that I wanted her to leave.
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in my dream, I found out that ralph was a professor of sociology AND psychology, and I remember thinking...you know... I've not seen much evidence of that before, but maybe I just haven't been paying attention.
[ 24.10.2007, 09:24: Message edited by: Jimmy Big Nuts ]
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also it transpired that everbody on my 'team' at work was also acting in CSI, and I couldn't understand why I hadn't even been told about it, let alone invited. And and! I was doing radio djing (which I used to do in RL) and everything was going wrong. Records were skipping, I couldn't find CD's, the mic was all bollocksed up, there was loads of dead air, I was letting albums run the whole way through as I tried to fix things etc. Every time I went on the mic I realised I didn't know what I was going to say and just sort of spluttered and trailed off. But I woke up thinking that I really miss doing the radio.
[ 24.10.2007, 09:15: Message edited by: Jimmy Big Nuts ]
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quote:Originally posted by ralph: And I didn't get in your face out of anger...I was just fooling around with you.
That's a foolhardy thing to do ralph. What if I hadn't recognized you in time? You could have wound up hanging from the roof by an improvised hose-noose, with a rake sticking out of your arse, whimpering "B..but I'm ralph! y'know r..ralphie boy from the moon on..li..." :saddam:
quote:Originally posted by London: Now I'm thinking about Ralph's erection. Thanks, Misc.
We all are, London. But I'm not going to apologise. I'm hoping that the power of our combined imaginations focusing on his penis will cause ralph to suffer a stonking yet totally unexpected desky.
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ralph works at home, misc - he probably has an errection most of the time and rarely dresses, except in bear skins and deer hides. Maybe we should turn the mojo on you?
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I'm working from home. It's alright. No shoes on. Played that new guitar hero demo at lunch time. listening to music. Unwashed. Alone.
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