plasticbag.org

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.

Now this is interesting – CafePress.com have started doing a variety of new products in many more colours than before. It’s fast approaching time to bite the bullet and get plasticbag.org and barbelith.com stores set up. I might even set up a Buffy quote t-shirt range. If it isn’t illegal. Which of course it probably is…

Coolest T-shirt in the world

My mother always told me, “Never trust a lady with a tape measure”: Thanks Davo! I’d also like to thank Simon for the minidisc and the card, NIck Jordan for the Tricky album, Chris for The Man Who Was Thursday, Jerwin for making me want to be a Teenage Dirtbag, my gran for the tenner and my family for the cheque. Love you all.

Happy birthday to me, Love My Online Cult.

Ten Good Posts From The Past (July-Oct 2000):

1) The Mouse From Aphrodite’s Armpit : “I am drooling as if drool never went out of fashion (1800s, if you’re interested). It’s like Steve Jobs is personally seducing me. He might as well put on suspenders and stand outside my house going, “Hey there, fancy a good time?”. Except that might be a bit gross. Oh My God.”
2) I Am Cheese: “I am traditional, yet soft. I am of Belgian descent. I have a creamy yellowish body, with a red/brown surface and a slightly corrugated edge. I taste almost meaty and have a legendary aroma caused by enzymes on my skin that break down proteins.”
3) Evil Supercriminal: “But I started to get a darker thrill from the presence of the evil supercriminals – people who didn’t have respect for society, people who weren’t interested in puppies and blonde girls and apple pie and fudge brownies, but instead would prefer to annihilate Frankfurt with a huge gun and an over-fluffed white cat.”
4) In Defence Of Back-Slapping Wank: “Clearly “wank” is considered “unproductive”, “wasteful”, “pointless” and therefore bad by these people. Weblogs are also considered “unproductive”, “wasteful” and “pointless” and also therefore “bad”.”
5) Talking to Katy: “Are you shagging all my friends?””
6) On Barmen: “Barmen are alluring for three reasons. Firstly, they have to be nice to you. Secondly, they are often employed because they are physically attractive (although this could be a condition only in gay culture). Thirdly, they bring you alcohol if you ask them nicely.”
7) In Which Tom Suffers From A Mystery Illness The Day After Getting Hideously Drunk: “Over the next two hours I manage to eat one eighth of an apple, a spoonful of cereal and a third of a small bowl of plain pasta with a little olive oil and salt.”
8) Bastardised Donut Hell: “The traditional English doughnut has been edged out of the Supermarket, to be replaced by what would be termed by the less charitable as its increasingly ubiquitous glossy bastardisation.”
9) Skank: “Joanna Lumley – goddess of the New Avengers, star of innumerable sub-par movies and chain-smoking high-class drunk skank of Absolutely Fabulous used to be heavily involved in a site…”
10) Text MessagE Theatre: “Jen has such a hard life. I really feel for her. I so relate to her bruised sluttiness – jack is a fucking girl loser poof as well. Spit. Vomit. Barf. Ick.”

Anyway – I’m twenty-nine now. Time to put aside childish things, buy some proper trousers without pockets half the way down them or detachable legs and think about more serious matters – like the campaign to get myself, Davo and lots of other people drunk, shagged and married off by (the end of) August. For more details flashback to April.

Someone did a search for Max on my search engine, which made me think about doing a search about him as well, and when I did a search it was all really depressing crap, because I never write about him unless he’s really pissed me off. Anyway – that’s not the point of this post. The point is that in the process I read a post about meeting a guy in a club and him being kind of nice. His name was Luke and apparently we had fun, but I don’t remember what he looked like at all. There’s not a thing in my head about it. Weird.

Twenty-nine years ago (to the exact minute) I sprang into the world, desperate for a cigarette.