As is the tradition - I must start this post with Matt’s trademarked “I wish to kick your face in look” with extra red eye.

Don’t mess with the Matt

Chantal and a rather werid chappie, who
got booted out by the bouncers for being
a twunt.

Kev & Matt being slightly more homosexual
than myself.  An actual homosexual.

Chantal and a Random Girl

Random Girl and Random Guy

Me

Chantal - love you $10!

Queri and Random Guy we didn’t like.

Man on the left.

I was checking this guy out all night!

Chantal & Pete

Half of Me and Random Girl

That was what occured last night in photos, it was rather random, I was up since 6am that morning and worked from 8am to 10pm then off in to town, cost me a bloody tenner for a taxi too (bastards).  But it was fun, the night ended with cheesy chips and crashing on Claire’s floor.

So it’s been a long long time since I’ve sat down to actually get around to writing a proper blog entry, I really need to be doing this more as quite frankly it’s a bit sad to have the best domain in the world and not use it to it’s full potential of internet evils.

We all know the FSG Rumour Mill has kept on top of my dramatic life and just about anything that has anything to do with anything. First of all my Craig situation, I love the kid but I can’t keep going with it, it’s a bitch and it hurts. He’s lovely, he’s ace but he’s not going to be my bizzatch ever and that makes the baby jesus cry. But we live, we move on and kill those in our paths.

The other situation that has properly blown up is my Matt and that well kicked off on my birthday, somehow, I’m sure just about anybody in the rumour mill knows what’s going on but I’m keeping my trap shut about it. Don’t get me wrong Claire was like “you’re the first person to be on top of all that” and she isn’ wrong, with our Carrie off having mini-me the mill is going a bit dry, so the vicious bitch over here is spreadin’ and stirin’ to make up for it. But that business, is nobody’s business and it’ll stay that way. Probably because I love Matt in that not so “I want down your Y fronts” way, in fact if it wasn’t for that cracking ass of his I think I’d like him to be family. But I’m afraid that’s an ass that won’t stop, so we can’t be doing the genetic thing and staring at it when it comes in to view.

During the week various things happened, really I should state that I need internets at work to give you the LIVE ACTION NEWS, but everytime I do I get told “OK YEAH” and it goes LOL ACCESS DENIED on me. But most memorable are:

Saturday Morning: One of our clients who have an accident rating HIGHER than the amount of vehicles they own, one of their drivers called in to say his NSF window was smashed in. This is not an issue, hey, I can even do this shit in my sleep, except he’s in France. No problem I think, I’ll just call Autoglass, they’ll do me some glass. Wrong. We had to call CARGLASS. Oh the fun we had.

The conversation went:
Me: Bonjour, parlez-vous l’anglais?
Her: Desole, je ne comprehendre pas l’anglais.
Me: Uh, Does anybody parlez-vous l’anglais?
Her: Non, Une moment, attendre a’ligne…..

Then I got passed to some woman who wanted to arrange an intervention…. oh well.

We got somebody else involved and that went equally as bad with CARGLASS, but finally our MD who although Italian and increadibly scary (it’s the mafia connections I’m sure) speaks fluent French. Even she can’t get Carglass to understand that we want GLASS IN TO CAR SO DRIVER VROOM VROOM TO ENGLAND. Idiots. So FAIL.

Saturday Afternoon: Me Tabs and Lisa went in the part bs to see Doomsday. INFO: BEST FILLUM EVAR. See it or die.

Sunday: Helped Vick move her stuff and a tellly. Her family are scary people (not the mafia connections). It was surreal. But at least I’m Vicky’s 3rd boyfriend. Although our sex life is non-existant and I’m horrid to her (but she loves it).

Anyways since the Fosters (or four cans I’ve just had is now setting in I shall go. See you my beetches.

I enjoyed my saturday, granted that I only got 3 hours before I had to get up again and that I did my laundry during that time and it didn’t even dry correctly so I had to, as expected, hang it all over the control centre to dry out (imagine my pants flung over monitors and desks). I discovered on friday evening that I was working the saturday morning AND the afternoon so I was a bit pissed off to say the least. But I got over it.

At 17.00 I finished work, had a shower here (their council tax now includes me as a permanent resident) then off to the horror that was Sainsburys on mothers-day eve to buy lagers AND pro-plus (cos I was hanging out me arse). Headed over to Matt’s to meet up with Pretty Craig and go out for the evening.  It was all good drank far too much at Matt’s, Speedpeedoed a Stella until I couldn’t take it as the blasphemous thing was well nasty!  We then headed out in to town, I think that’s when it all went down hill.  I made a point of getting properly bollox’d cos I had to be in work for 0900 to show the rest up!

I think in that evening I bought everybody drinks all night cos I ended it on the following day with only £5.35 to my name and I had ALOT more than that to hand.  So my budget is well blown to bits.

Anyways, back to the story at hand, we suddenly then went in to Melksham (about 10 miles away) I made an arse of myself and we taxi’d back to Craig’s pad to end off the evening.  At that point it kind of got a bit emo and I spent most of the evening crying which I find is well cool when you’re in the presence of other people.

I woke up the following morning and looked at my phone for the time and decided “I’m going to be sick” and barged through Craig’s room to the toilet to do just that.  Ace.

Then walked in to work, hanging, had my shower and started my 30 hour shift. Joy.

Signed up with Virgin Media, got 2mb broadband and a telephone line (which was cheaper than getting JUST broadband).  Opened a second current accoutn with NatWest for bill payments (rather than the HSBC one where it takes 3 days to transfer).

I’ve also completed on changing over my address details and because I’ve caught the DEATH PLAGUE from work I’ve stuck no less than 4 rolls of toilet paper up my nose to release the bombardment of phlem that’s up there.  I’m also still choking the shit up as well which is a pleasant thing to do on a saturday!

I’m also doing an 80s horror film thing this evening so I got to move my computer to the main television table.  HOLLA!

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I went out in Bristol on a birthday party last night, everything started off cool the limo ride there was well wicked, but it all went a bit south from there.

Had a bit of relationship problems that interveined there and I spent most of the evening really sober trying to calm down a series of potential street fights and road traffic incidents.  This was of course followed by a series of phone calls and texts trying to get somebody from A to B before getting stranded in A.  And it nearly ment me going home via limo and taxi then getting my car and driving to Bristol again to pick up 1-2 people.

I’m not really angry or annoyed because at the end of the day it was between to other people and nothing could have stopped that roller coaster once it started and the night wasn’t a huge loss I did have fun in between all the other bits.

So if you were one of the people who I texted “WHERE THE FUCK IS PANASHE, I NEED TO KNOW NOW” this is why!

Attracted police attention when parking up. They thought I was going to doughnuts with my 4×4! I’m well ‘ard. 

I managed to attract police attention when I went to park up in the local longstay, turns out the boy racers like to do their doughnuts and general nonceness there imagine their let down ready to rail on me for being the scurge of the universe, when I sensibly reversed in to my space, switched off the lights, locked up and left them to it all before the rozza could even step out to make me respect his authori-tay.

This evening had an impromptu evening in work and out on the town.

Ending my shift at 19.00 it was decided that there would be kebab run, which went rather successfully and there was much rejoycing to be had with a fat filled meal for 4.

Upon my exit I was invited out for the evening which I took up gladly, it started off well and ended rather brilliantly.  Since I was driving there wasn’t any drink to be had but it was still a laugh all the same.  Took no photos though, however, nearly took a peice of the floor to the face when the bouncers were “politely requesting a patron to leave”.  Most certainly something I will endevor to do again.

Anyways, it’s a short post since I’ve got work in the morning (LOLZ) so we’ll see how it goes since it’s PANCAKE SATURDAY [unofficial].  Rock on people!

I’ve had a sugar binge recently and not just a little one, A REALLY BIG ONE.  So much so I’m paying for it now, my root canal tooth (yet unfinished art due to £250 cost) has developped a cavity and shit has been getting down between the tooth and £80 worth of  white filling.  So needless to say it’s all got to be re-drilled, re-filled and finally finished at a cost of around £500 over a period of two months.

Wonderful.  On the brightside I qualified under a rather good banding on the performance related pay, thus, this cost will be offset when I obtain this payment some months down the line.  Now to offset the RIPPING PAIN (because I can’t afford this out of hours malarkey) I’m drinking somewhat heavily this afternoon, oddly enough it’s helping.  Tomorrow I might go down to the Sainsburys and buy anything and everything with the word “dental”, “teeth”, “pain” and “relief”.

98 is two away from 100. What an arse. Alas, there is always Monday.

Anyways, this weekend I have about 20,000 english pence to my name and a full tank of fuel. So after work tomorrow I’m so off to the Bristol of some good old plotting of the God Hates Wags variety.

As I write this I am STILL awaiting kevin.com.ua to be registered properly, so for now I write this with an audience of one (because I faffed the DNS on my proxy server to recognise - holla). I can’t even advertise it until it at least shows up in the whois database otherwise komrades I’ll have lost the battle and for that would be suckage, much like Avril Lavigne. As an aspiring gothic I find her a blight to my cause. I think I might just have to write a poem about it and that is total dramatics.

As I’m on a bit of a tangent at the moment between some kind of lucid writing I might take this chance to write a little about my day at work. As a call centre monkey I have daily quotas, one such being 70 calls a day and, er, 16ish jobs posted a day. This in itself isn’t difficult when I actually give a monkies and try to gracefully top the boards, anyways, there is an outstanding bet between two folk that I wouldn’t do a tonne before I leave training, this evening I was so unbelievably close until it was ruined by a longer than expected call. I missed THREE calls as a result of it, understand how ANGRY I am with the likes of Jaguar Assist, utter pricks, I nearly won a bet and for that I shall London Terror Weekend their offices. But alas I can’t actually be bothered with the whole bomb making, it involves far too much planning ability.

But now I must make some kind of effort to go to bed, for I must awake at stupid time tomorrow and hope my clothes strewn across the room are remotely dry for the day ahead, again with the foreplanning. Bah humbug.

Oh and if you’re bored: LovePlanet.ru - good times to be had by all as when you register you gain access to the profile photos, which are totty tastic.