The weirdness never ever ends. Just when you think you’re over the whole birthday thing, Jerwin sings for you. Scroll down to Marilyn, click, and then hear the true wonderful horror of “Happy birthday, Mr Plasticbag”. I’m freaked!
Gallery of galleries (blog party in the park): notsosoft, little blue fox, Nick Jordan.
So I was kind of bored the other day and was watching TV and Margaret Thatcher was on TV clapping Jeffrey Archer and I thought to myself, I really must e-mail Mr Big. So I did. He’s in Ibiza for a month. Who the hell is Mr Big?
So I saw this flash movie on Metafilter and I was like “Weeeeeeeee”!
Today on Barbelith: Discovering Rufus Wainwright – “Poses” shattered my envious vision of a modern Jim Morrison, replacing it with the reality – a brutally honest and even dangerous gay musician.
Fighting with BT Internet’s 50p a minute help desk is less than entertaining at the best of times. It’s particularly unthrilling when you are complaining that the connection number that you are supposed to use has been engaged for the last fourteen hours (checked by dialing the number and listening) and they suggest that the way to fix this situation is to change your control panel settings and check your modem. £5 (at least) worth of phone calls later, I am in a near-stabbing frenzy.
I don’t even know where to begin talking about last night’s Singalonga Birthday Party. I had a tremendously good time – that much I am sure about. We all met up outside around six to make sure we all got tickets. People turned up that I haven’t seen in ages. It was great to see Emma and Katy and Matt and Fran and Rebecca and Nick and Meg and Danny and Davo and Phil and Michael and Luke and Pippa and Chrusty and everyone else I’ve momentarily forgotten.
The show was, as usual, tremendous. Most of us seemed to enjoy ourselves – belting out songs with as much force as our little lungs could grant us. Even those people who hadn’t seen the film before (and there were a couple) seemed to have a great time as well. We fell out of the cinema around 11.30pm, exhausted and flushed and (in my case at least) incredibly bouncy.
I also ended up with the most astonishing bag of goodies ever, and I’d like to take the opportunity to thank everyone. Thanks to Davo for the album, Danny for the musical card, Pippa for the chocolates, Meg for the incredible original ER set script, Rebecca for the … whistle, Luke for the novel, Matt and Fran for the other novel, and Michael for the other other novel. You’re all stars. Plus thanks to Simon for the album delivered this morning. I’ve made out like a bandit.
If the weather holds up this afternoon, you can expect me to be attending this afternoon’s ukbloggers’ party in the park from 2.30pm at Speaker’s Corner. See you there?
Occasional employment is kind of like this Onion article only with higher blood pressure and worse dreams: Plan To Straighten Out Entire Life During Weeklong Vacation Yields Mixed Results.
