Monthly Archives: September 2007
I’m off dahn Lahndahn tahn to the dogs. I am inexplicably EXCITED. And it’s also Bobby Convey’s birthday. WOO
Excellent. I am having my ego gently massaged by a Flickr member who appreciates my images on the Super Sekrit Flickr account. At least someone appreciates me… someone who is over ten thousand miles away who has a big scary beard…
Yes, my life really is that devoid of affection. I really am an average-sized loser.
Day two: The bruising has spread and my eye is a lovely rosy pink colour
It hurts when I make with the wild facial expressions and when I sneeze- I’m having to ease up on the raised eyebrows… quelle horreur. Some of my students thought I was wearing cerise eyeshadow and that i’d had a bit of a makeup mishap; I managed to keep them nice and quiet by recounting and re-enacting both the kettle scald incident and whacking myself in the face during badminton. They’ve totally got new found respect for me… *ahem*
Useful as well as pretty.
Family Guy + Star Wars = SUPER GENIUS
New season six episode Blue Harvest
YouTube Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5
So today, fed up of the class of Year 11’s I was taking for P.E. playing badminton like they were a bunch of pussies, I stepped in and demonstrated how to hit and play properly. This “playing properly” resulted in me somehow managing to hit myself in the face with my own racquet, clipping my eyebrow as I went for a shot.
The resulting cut and swollen black eye goes particularly well with my scald from last week (seen below encased in it’s special see-thru plaster). They’re both quite pretty embellishments; I think they make me look all the more alluring. My eye feels a little sore and heavy where the blood has run into my eyelid; I am in need of a hit of caffeine and the soft caress of my orange blanket. Ow.
Good one Miss.
I’m home alone ’til Thursday so I am luxuriating in being in total possession of the sofa *ahem* Hutt throne. Last night I really enjoyed Stuart: A Life Backwards (Tom Hardy was impressive) and today whilst lounging post-school I have been filling my brain with some fascinating talks from this years TED conference.
The site is filled with lectures on a variety of subjects by a very wide selection of the brightest thinkers around. A really fine introduction is James Nachtwey talking about his career to date as a photojournalist; he thinks that if he is good at what he does, any photograph tries to take that shows the truth of war will be by definition an anti-war photograph. An interesting follow-up is Steven Pinker on The Myth of Violence. Great stuff.
Sad and beautiful multimedia piece Windows by Nathan Hill
NSFW Goedde: 1990-2004 – Steve Diet Goedde – Fetish photos
I’ve just been sent a batch of photos from Gorgeous Texan of her recent wedding- the one I wasn’t able to attend ‘cos of school and finances. I am now uncharacteristically gushy and have spent the last few minutes going “Oooo” and “awww” over the various pics of the big day.
I felt really bad I wasn’t able to attend as it was an important moment in her life and she is important to me. It’s odd in that we were only in the same country for three months (she left at the end of my first term at university) but I still feel close to her. The last time we met was back in 2005: a couple of hours spent being tourists together in Midtown Manhattan. She’s one of those people who I count as close friends as I can go for years without seeing her and we can still pick up where we left off and get along like a house on fire.
The bride wore a simple white princess line dress with an embellished lace panel at the back and spagehetti straps; the gown was covered in tiny beads and pearls that caught the light nicely. She looked beautiful with long gentle curls framing her beaming smile.
Awww gee she looked pretty…
Being now infected with weddings I have just spent fifteen minutes looking at wedding dresses. If we pretend we are living in a crazy fantasy world where someone loved, accepted and valued me enough to want to be with me, it would SO be worth blowing five grand on one of these ridiculous, awesome dresses by these two designers:
Chantal Mallett Couture & Uptight Clothing
Fuck white I want colour.
On my birthday I will be attending The Wedding Of The Century AKA my cousin’s nuptials in deepest rural Ireland. Now, do not think that because it’s out in the country this is going to be a simple affair- Oh no. Serious cash has been dropped on this event- I will be staying in the ridiculously lovely Castle Durrow (yes, a stately home); apparently the entire set of bridesmaid outfits were returned when they saw that another wedding held months back had used the same gear. It’s going to be insane. On a positive note, my cousin has been through all sorts of shit in her life and seems to have finally found her feet and be at peace with the world and her fiance is a amazingly lovely person. Yay.
On my Dad’s side of the family I am next in line to get married off, so it’s all downhill from there on. I feel so fucking inadequate when i’m around my cousins- Young professionals, totally out of my world, well-groomed, well-dressed and well-paid. They’re the sort of gals who can put on three shades of eyeshadow and expertly blend them so it looks professional; also one of them happens to be stunningly beautiful too- redheaded with a killer body. I am the fake redhead with not much of a waist and the tattoos. Sigh.
Thankfully i’ll only have to put up with the interrogation of seldom-seen family members for two days before I can escape (have you got a boyfriend? what’s wrong with you? etc etc); I find such events tough going and usually end up feeling pretty glum by the end of the evening. If I can avoid crying I will have had a successful weekend…
So the gathering of the crew of the Damned Lust for TLAPD was muy excellentay. Caversham Princess, Bobby Convey, McCy, Leia Ewok Village, Woods, Tiger and Sawyer looked fab sporting variously facial hair, corsetry, fierce-looking boots and piratical hoodies; the women wore facial hair but the men did not partake in corsetry… Equality people…!
Me and the crew stayed in port rather than venturing dahn tahn like last year; the evening was fun and I got to enjoy my rather tasty rum in a more relaxing and sanitary environment than the Turtle. It was also good because when I was expounding on how Goliath Bird Eating spiders can eat monkeys (and from there it’s only a short scurry to humans obviously), I could career upstairs and check on Wikipedia if I was correct. I was not. They are still however HORRIBLE.
I’ve spent the day post-pirate Hutting out- picking at leftovers, reading Potter and treating myself to Coke with ice. I cooked myself steak with chips *again* and enjoyed Deadliest Catch (it’s awesome); I also devoted some quality time to stroking the resulting overhang… I always enjoy the tactile qualities of where the bulge of fat meets the flatness of my upper thigh- soft and giving versus smooth and taut. Arrr.
Havana Club Añejo Especial be miiighty tasty wi’ limes, ice and a few spoonfuls o’ demerara. It be flavourful and help keep ye evil o’ scurvy at bay. Arrr. And so I be turnin’ in.
A review of Scarlet Magazine in the the f-word. My favourite bit of the whole article (which happens to be rather good) is this bit right at the end:
“About the author”
“Holly Combe is a member of Feminists Against Censorship and believes the celibate and the slut are natural comrades united in their deviance against prescribed social norms. She is currently “between shaves” and enjoying the challenge her Desperate-Dan-like quim presents to fashionable standards of female beauty.”
Very NSFW Yo Ho Ho: Talk Like A Pirate (Or Just Fap Like One) – Fleshbot – Saucy wenches ahoy
Spoylt – Half price sale – This sadly still makes the underwear fourty quid and up…
The Chernobyl Dating – Photos – Fluffy Lychees
Image from Pirates vs Ninjas – A presentation from Wellington Grey
Do you have a spider phobia? – A course I should probably take held at London Zoo
Gareth Pugh Spring/Summer 2008 – Amazingly weird couture show
Science Tattoos – Flickr
NSFW Linda L – Sandy – High quality nudes from Hegre Art
NSFW Semenography – Oddly disturbing art – Celebrity photos garnished with semen
Red Leather RoSa High Heels Hurry Through the Town – YouTube – For those of you with a shoe fetish
Arrrrrrr… me wench tops ‘ave arrived… they be mighty picture-skew but they be havin’ one major fault- They both be rather on ye see-through side. They be showin’ me shoulders off nice like but I be needin’ t’be wearin’ summat underneath o’erwise I be showin’ me Bristol’s… Which in ye appropriate scurrilous company be mighty fine but I be not encountering any such scoundrels in quite a while… Too long at sea I be fearin’ t’be showin’ such imperfect treasures. Arrr.
I hope ye be havin’ a miiiighty fine Talk Like A Pirate Day today.
Watch th’ madness unfold at ye Flickr group – International Talk Like A Pirate Day
Ye most excellent Lego Pirates – I be wantin’ some o’ these since I be a very small Cap’n… alas, ye evil Lego corporation be cancellin’ ye Pirates :(
Son o’ a Dutchman! They be doin’ Spongebob Lego now too… How can they be cancellin’ such a classic theme as ye Pirates and produce such travesties o’ Lego?
In preparation fo’ ye imbibin’ – Pirate Rum Reviews at Bilgemunky
As I was typing the previous entry my gaze wandered from the TV to my laptop screen to the table to the wall to my right… where the giant spider that previously terrorised me was sitting.
Now I don’t know if it was the one and the same spider or a related one but I am happy to report that I now feel sick to my stomach and what was formally an arachnid is lying crumpled on the floor under a large frying pan. It took me half an hour to work my way up to the deed but I did it. I will most definitely be sharing my bed with my hot water bottle tonight… my hands are still shaking and I still feel like I want to puke… Calm, calm…
Clarise in red and black and Cristin.
I spent twenty minutes in Faith wishing these amazing posh stripper shoes fit my feet- 1 inch platform soles and shiny red moc croc. I tried three sizes, with insoles and without to no avail. They were wondrously easy to walk in but my toes were either scrunched up or the back flapped as I strode monstrously about. They were sooooo pretty… I thought they were amongst the greatest shoes i’d ever seen but the course of time did not change the fact that they simply did not fit properly.
I am currently ensconced solo on the sofa in front of Independence Day; writing is helping me fight the strong urge to contact MW#1 to do something other than just watch wrestling. Of course, I still love the wrestling (probably ’til the day I die) and (dumbly) MW#1 still excites me, it’s just all I ever do is infrequently go round his, sit on the opposite sofa for three hours and not talk to him very much. I guess I just miss the variety of old, where i’m not just that girl that likes wrestling… but it’s not like we see each other with any frequency so sometimes i’m not sure i’m even that.
I’m feeling ignored, unappreciated and unimportant, i.e. nothing new and the undoubted truth. So a bit glum…
…but I don’t want to be weak and cave. So i’ll spend my time distracting myself and write the same old shite that i’ve been writing about for years- Self-indulgent, navel-gazing mediocrity… but it’s almost like I am driven to write. The kicker is why am I unable to keep a diary but find it easy publicising my ramblings on a website?
If you are ever involved in a contest where you have to win my devotion by choosing flowers, here is an example of what you could buy:
I think the dahlias I bought to cheer myself up post-Job Centre are fabulous- much better than a bunch of boring scentless roses; the bestower of similarly unusual floral accoutrements would win themselves a special place in my heart and of course my underwear.
On that subject, I now have properly-fitting bra number two. Not exactly silk or Pudding quality but hurrah.
Caversham Princess is off to confer with some politicos so I am home alone until Tuesday; I am going to meet up with my former Mentor for coffee and a much needed bitching session (and see what the job situ might be for next September), spending the rest of the time reading seafaring novels and generally being a solo Hutt.
I could do with painting my toenails and dying my hair; I think I will have to schedule in a session of dancing around in my underwear to suggestive music. I feel the need.
So my two-weekly trip to Sign On was not as plain sailing as usual. I told them previously that praise be, i’d managed to get a job, and that I was starting it on the 3rd and it was part time. I was told that next time I would go to a different section and that I had to bring with me my timetable etc.
So I arrive, hand my stuff over and wait to be called. I go and see the Signing On signer-offer and she says oh, you’ve got a job, well you need to follow me. Off we wander across the other side of the office, where I am given a form to fill in with a stubby pen and told to wait until I am called. I wait. I am called.
I hand over my form to the next job centre worker and he takes a brief look.
“Oh, so you have a job then?” he asks.
“Yes, I was asked to come over here because i’ve managed to find a part time job.” I say.
“Have you started your job yet?”
“Yes, on the 3rd of this month.” (as it says in the form)
“Okay. Your name isn’t on here.”
He points to the section at the top of the form that says “Office Use Only.”
“Put your name down, your National Insurance Number and your phone number. “
“Here? In this bit? “
I fill in the sections “Job Centre address” “Job Centre telephone number” with my own details, pausing where I have to fill in my phone number whereupon he says I need to enter the date. Already I am having to detach myself from the retarded nature of what is sure to unfold here.
“Where’s your B7 form?”
“Er… I was just given this one form today and told to fill it in. I’m afraid I don’t know what that is.”
“Well you are supposed to have a B7 form. Why haven’t you got one? “
“I’m sorry I have no idea- I was told 10 minutes ago to take this other form and fill it in and wait.”
“Who told you that?”
I indicate the lady on the other side of the office.
“Oh. Okay. Right.”
He gets me a form I have not seen before, form B7. I hold out my timetable of hours worked. He ignores this and gets me to fill everything in on the new form, repeating myself filling in the details as I go.
“When did you start?”
“The 3rd of September…”
I explain that I get paid for set hours that vary over two weeks and that I have a permanent contract that will become full time towards the end of November when I cover a colleague’s maternity leave. I also explain that on my days off I will work supply work when the work starts to come in. I hand over my school contract so he can see the details.
“This says it’s only a temporary contract.”
“No, as you can see here it’s a permanent contract.”
“But it’s not, it’s part time. It’s such a small amount of hours. It’s temporary.”
“Yes… (I am struggling here) It’s part time but a permanent contract.”
“But you’ve just told me that it’s going to be full time in November and here it says part time.”
“It will become full time towards the end of November; I don’t have a date yet as it depends on the health of my colleague. It was going to be January but that has changed. It could change again. I will get another contract on top or my hours will be increased.”
“Right. So let’s do a Job Search.”
“Um, i’ve already got a job? I will be doing supply work when it comes in, so there’s not much point in doing that as I already have a contracted job. There are no relevant jobs for me anyway as it’s only two weeks into the start of term. I spoke to one of my supply agencies this week and gave them my details and they confirmed there are no jobs as of yet.”
“Okay, so what have you been doing to find a job? What newspapers have you been looking in?”
Here I decided to give up.
“The Times Educational Supplement, the Guardian, the Reading Post”
“The Times Supplement… The Reading Post”
He takes a phone call at this point.
“Um, where was I, oh yes, what papers?”
“The Times Educational Supplement, The Guardian, The Reading Post”
“The Times Educational Supplement which I check on a daily basis, the Reading and Wokingham borough websites, the Job Centre website”
“Have you been asking your friends about jobs?”
“Yes” I sigh.
I finally get Signed Off and I leave, over an hour since I entered the abysmal place. Fuuuck…
I need a back rub. Or a back crunch would be more descriptive. I am finding that hugging my hot water bottle along with Patrick or pressing the warmth against my back is soothing. It’s like a micro version of someone hugging me, which is helpful, because I miss the feeling of someone being close to me. Ug.
New very much NSFW set: tiffen
Captain Jack’s – Super-lovely handmade pirate hats
Erwin Olaf – Practically every single photograph is awesome
Anatomy in the Gallery at the IMSS – “Artists juxtapose stitching with medical imaging technologies to investigate the human condition”
Double Trouble in Pornoland – I can agree strongly with this article and the original NSFW Trouble In Pornoland.
As much as I try to be as open minded and open to new experiences, whenever I see a gal being made to gag by someone sticking all their fingers in her mouth, I get decidedly unnerved and very much turned off. Fish hooking is not allowed in many organised fighting styles, so why the fuck should it be okay in pornography?
Chewbacca Impersonator Moves Crowd to Tears, Applause – Video of The Chewbacca Defence in action
Halo costume – Oh to have your job being a maker of costumes
legohaulic’s Post-apocalyptic street scene in lego
Just in time for TLAPD- Yours for only £137: Pirate Charm Necklace
I think i’ll be saving the benefit money.
Much as I try to be a jewellery lover (I love looking at the stuff, especially when it’s in a museum shop) I don’t really wear much, just the odd cheap-o bracelet now and then. The pearl is very pretty but i’m not particularly enamoured with the other charms. Of course, if someone was to buy it for me i’d love it long time :D
I am very thankful that I have such a kind housemate.
Caversham Princess came back and she tackled the spider with the hoover as I stood three metres away and freaked out. Unfortunately, collective hysteria ensued when the hoover missed the target and said creature disappeared…
I am now back in my room, away from the sanctuary of the Crow’s Nest. Sigh.
My stomach feels sick and sore from all the freaking out, so I am curled up with Patrick and a hot water bottle… warm delicious
Oh GOD. There’s a GIANT spider on my duvet in the Crow’s Nest. It’s been around a half hour since I noticed it in my peripheral vision and ran yelling; it’s been sitting there ever since simply because I cannot bring myself to attack it, I am that scared. I am writing this from the hallway where I can take the odd peek through the crack in the door. The joys of wireless computing.
I am hoping Caversham Princess will come back and help me tackle it; if she’s not available then i guess i’m going to have to make my move. I have however tried to do this three times so far without success. This is pathetic I know. I just have a real phobia of spiders; I have since around the age of five when a big hairy spider crawled up my arm after I disturbed it’s hiding place by putting my hand in my jacket pocket.
I know I need to get it, as if I don’t then it will ambush me whilst i’m asleep, but the hoover tube isn’t long enough to suck it up without getting too close too it. I am frazzled. Never mind love, care and procreation, this is the one time I could do with a manly man to help me out. AKKKKKKKKKKK.
My post “drunk hotness” blues: I spent the day curled up when I had the chance, happily marooned in the Crow’s Nest with Patrick. I say happily in that it was (relatively) quiet and I could act like a slug in peace, only venturing out for necessities and football.
Actually, I suppose I am more like a Hutt than a slug; I lie on the mattress on the floor like it is my throne. All I need now is a local Kowakian monkey-lizard to cackle at the outside world from a position atop the mantelpiece and the scene is complete.
Why can’t I be the one wearing the metal bikini?
Nothing of note to report, just post-booze sniffling and a general feeling of malaise. Recalling how I thought I looked so awesome last night that I actually took a photo of myself to record the moment, then today thinking about how someone should be proud to have me on their arm and in their life- Me, alone in a small room, lying on a mattress with no-one to hug but a poorly soft toy. Humph.
I cheered myself up by watching a few episodes of Star Trek: TNG- the ones I could find featuring either Q or Lwaxana Troi. I now feel a need to watch all the Star Trek films I can get my hands on. Oh dear.
Excellent marvellous evening out with Leia Ewok Village and Woods, Tiger. Pretentious cocktail bar total letdown as filled with near-normal people, but I did see some fucking Godawful outfits, so hope springs eternal.
Dinner scrumptious, especially as I didn’t have to pay- Must save benefit for sexy yet classy outfits for no reason and piratical stuff arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
I thought I had super hot “demure” gorgeousness going on, though I am biased, but overly self-critical. So what the truth is who can tell.
I am drunk and tired and I will hug Patrick long time. I am super fabulousness and certain people were plain missing out. Night Night!
ME LOVE YOU ALL LONG TIME
Woooooooo… Watch out pretentious young professional fuckwits, here I come…
I have persuaded Leia Ewok Village and Woods, Tiger to go with me to the previously mentioned pretentious cocktail bar tomorrow before wending our way to Italian for dinner.
I am greatly looking forward to the outing; I am going to wear my new sexy-yet-classy dress and maybe my corselette underneath to keep me smooth and attach some stockings to. I so rarely get to dress up nice- Last time was around four months ago- So I am EXCITED.
TLAPD is fast approaching; on that front I have purchased some excellent off-the-shoulder piratical shirt-type-objects to add to the Illustrious Cap’n’s costume.
Booze, good food and wench tops- Benefit money well spent i’m sure you’ll agree.
When buying my sexy-yet-classy dress last week I also purchased two pairs of thong/string-type undergarments; they were on offer so I thought i’d “have a laugh” and buy them. Lordy are they weird to wear. It’s like the sizing is completely wrong- They are both the same size but one feels too big and the other feels like it is faaar too small. What the fuck.
Final week of the AP sale- lots of pretty at knockdown prices (conveniently in my new size). I’d plump for Josephine, Sara or Nikita from the lot on offer. Maggie Gyllenhaal is the new poster gal; an odd choice perhaps but quite effective.
So Chris Benoit’s brain was fucked up into a mass of knotted neurons due to repeated concussions. Fuck you ‘roid rage retards and hooray for Chris Nowinski. Ric Flair is woooooooooooooooooo -ing his way out of the ‘E. Combined with all the supensions, firings etc it’s the end of the world ha ha.
And so to other subjects….
Health Report – Female orgasm – Transcript of a very interesting and informative discussion on the scientific status of female ejaculation (non-graphic)
Avant-garde Fashion Photography
Safe Toys You Can Make – Craft Zine
Gradient button necklace instructions – Craft Log
Crafts Projects Archive – Star Wars Kids stuff – Make a Mynock mobile, a Star Ward book bag etc
UFC – NYT – David Heath vs. Rento Sobral
Bristol Stool Scale – Grade your shit
Bake Me A Geeky Cake – Retrospectacle
NSFW Morbid Anatomy – Medical art blog
NSFW How to build your own Fleshlight! – Something Awful forums
NSFW #246 – The Function of Art in Society
THOMAS ADANK – photographer
I forgot to mention that I received a lovely bunch of flowers in celebration of my new job from Caversham Princess… Huzzah! Strangely, I like the deep purple carnations the best; usually I am not a fan of these flowers but they are very deep in colour, nice and rich.
So my first day teaching was really good. The worst thing the kids did was talk a bit much. That was it… Awesomeness. Is a much lower stress environment than my previous school and they take things much less seriously.
Day off tomorrow, and I shall be hibernating for a few hours before spending the day sorting through the reams of information i’ve been given over the last couple of days. I’ve resorted to sleeping in the Crow’s Nest since i’ve gone back to work as I am unable to do so in my own bed because the noise from the terror cell next door is too much. I really worry that getting six or so hours a night does not put me in the safest position to drive when I leave for work. Fuckers.
Environmental Health is coming round Thursday morning to listen to them; I hope they are behaving normally i.e. completely unreasonably. Not that anything will improve the situation- We are going to have to move, which makes me feel rather sad. Seven homes in as many years. I am tired of moving.
Today, I had a good day.
Departmental staff all lovely, i’ve got my own classroom with brand new PC and projector, I sorted out all the planning shenanigans, got my own desk space in the staffroom and my maternity cover may be starting at the end of November, so i’ll get fully paid over the Christmas/New Year period and my induction will take less time to complete. Huzzah.
I get to meet my first bunch of girlies tomorrow, so the feelings of goodness may evaporate but given the previous schools i’ve worked in, I don’t think it’s going to compare- I doubt i’ll be threatened with being taken outside and raped. Which really is a bonus.
Told you i’d knock off the pathetic wallowing.
Whilst making my way home via the ducks last night I passed a pretentious new cocktail bar. It was filled with gals whose professionally highlighted hair had been GHD’d within an inch of it’s non-living life, the jeans and dresses together are klassy, ‘specially with my new handbag!!!!!!!!! crew and also the associated young professional males with conspicuous consumption to do.
It seemed to be one of those familiar sorts of places where they try to put themselves over as being creative and different whilst not letting people in wearing trainers and charging seven quid a cocktail. I should say that I only passed the place, so for all I know they might let people in wearing wellies and charge only a fiver per tall drink. Who knows? What I can say is that their website is fucking awful and I could most definitely do a better job.
The thing is, whenever I see a place like said venue, I feel a little jealous of all the fuckwits who can afford the place or who are out on a date and won’t have to pay. I can’t help but wish I could go, just so I could go in and feel smug that I am a “proper” non-conformist who actually “deserves” to be in a creatively different bar and then enjoy myself being rude about the place and the clientele. I am terrible.
There’s no reason I can’t go, just as there’s no reason why I can’t go and sit in any other bar on my own, but similarly, what would be the point? It’s the sort of glass box that screams seduction and at the moment I think i’d just sit there looking decidedly sullen.
I look slightly sullen most of the time (it’s the way my face hangs), so when I really am sullen I look goddamn gruesome; I would get the usual “Cheer up, it might never happen” to which I would give them a hard look and reply with “That’s why i’m unhappy…” It’s awesome; it’s like a security screen has been thrown up between us, and the male usually moves along sharpish. Bye bye.
Ugh, going through pathetic wallowing in self-pity phase. Feel like I want the world to leave me the fuck alone, but of course the world excluding improper persons I love. This is why i’ll continue to hang out in the crow’s nest, curled up on the beanbag with Sinatra singing torch songs through my headphones. It’s just a phase, I promise to knock it off as soon as.
Inset day tomorrow la la la