Sleepless in Scotland

This morning in the newspaper: annoying-ex-classmate-turned-even-annoyinger-politician talking about how the Liberals should work closely/closer with the extreme right VB. HATE!

I'm catching up on my friendslist and stuff, but I had a migraine last night, so don't expect a proper entry till tomorrow. Until then, have a Live 8 screencap of LUV. :D

Melle: And now, for your random pairing of the day ...
Amy: ...WOW. Could ya proposition Mark a LITTLE more obviously, Leo?

Purely physical update: I no longer feel like the Cirque du Soleil is rehearsing in my stomach, so that's good, though I slept from 8PM till midnight and then, again, couldn't get back to sleep tonight. Argh. I'm trying not to stress about stressing, but it's getting annoying as fuck, especially since I'm can't concentrate on anything.

In other news, some time just before I left for work yesterday I managed to delete the DNS addresses for my connection, thus leaving me unable to actually get online. Oops. But at least while I was trying to find the letter with the DNS addies in it, I came across the docs for my computer, so at least now I know which RAM I need and how much I can get and stuff.

I think I'll go buy stuff this weekend. RAM, new HD, and possibly (depending on price and need/want) an extra "slot" of USB ports and a graphics card. Right.

Also, randomly: ( And people say I'm nuts for wanting to slash Bono and Sir Bob ... )

WHY IS THERE A BONO/CLINTON BUNNY ATTACHED TO MY LEG?

GODDAMMIT!

Oh, look, it's yet another round of "RPS is EEEEEEEEEEEEVIL!" I do enjoy this so. I say enjoy, I actually mean I tolerate it. I say tolerate, what I actually do is, I take the dullest pencil I can find, jam it into my brain through my ear, and wiggle it around to the tune of sk8terboi.

Okay, I'll stop the Mark Lamarr impression now, but really, people. You don't like RPS. We get the point! In fact, we got the point three fucking years ago, when RPS and RPF was still something that was hidden, written and shared in private e-mail only, like some shameful secret. You know what? Those days are over, and after three years, I think it's time people started dealing with that. Don't like RPF? Think it's immoral and wrong? Fine with me, just keep it out of my face unless you have an argument I haven't heard a few dozen times before already. No? Didn't think so.

In other news, I hereby propose Colin Powell be the only one allowed to speak for the USA in all matters concerning Iraq. At least when he's talking, I can believe he has some rational reason to want to attack Iraq. Not necessarily rational reasons I would agree with, but rational reasons nonetheless. This as opposed to Dubya -- every time I see him talk about the impending war, I just want to pat him on the head and tell him that "Yes, you're a very big boy. Now, why don't you run along and go play with your toys, and let the grown-ups handle this? There's a good monkey." Somehow, I don't think this is the sort of reaction I should be having to the commander of the most powerful military in the world. Right.

Oh, brilliant, I've French class today. I'm starting to remember why I disliked school. Meeeeh! Two hours of paying attention to a foreign language. Blah.

Spent most of Saturday cleaning, doing laundry, and dyeing my knickers and bras, plus a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. (Um. My black underwear had worn down to not-even-dark-grey, and I was tired of it. I'd also managed to spill hair bleach on one pair, leaving it stained. And the jeans were a very unbecoming washed-out-black. Now all my stuff is properly pitch black, the way it's meant to be.) Spent most of Sunday bumming around, watching TV and DVDs. Most noteably, U2's The Best of 1990-2000, with director's commentary, which includes gems such as "And there's Larry Mullen, having an expression for the first time in twenty years, heh." Heeee!

And speaking of TV, my suspicion agains Conny is rising. Although my niggling feeling about Stijn has not subsided, on the contrary. And call me a bitch, but woo! Nicole is gone! I didn't like her. Too whiny.

I repeat: There is Eminem/Sean Biggerstaff in my inbox.

My brain! Clearly, this whole girl!Marcus thing has opened a portal and shoved us into some twisted alternate reality.

stoptocheer

( Responsibility )

I can make it I will make it I must make it!

In non-panicy news, dude! Dudedudedudedudedude! The tape came! When I go home tonight, I will have Tom/Danness to watch! On my TV! In wonderful, glorious size and detail and quality! Wheeee!

So the new Disney movie involves the treasure of a Captin Flint, which of course means I now have, in my head, the image of PirateCaptain!Marcus. "Arr, matey." And Draco as the youngest shipmate. It's amusing, but also oddly appealing. Clearly, I need help.

Oh, and for the record? My head? Still hurts. My knee's behaving today, it seems, so at least that's something.

Actually nearly met my quota yesterday. Not bad. And I would have actually met it, too, had Jordan not been c&p'ing this to me over AIM. And as if that's not enough to make my head explode, TOM AND DAN LOVE EACH OTHER!!!!!!

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

*twitches* Anyone -- anyone whth a VCR and HBO and perhaps dubbing capacities, please somebody get me this tape? Pretty please? I'll pay. I'll offer you my young, nubile, virginal body! ANYTHING!

I had, like, stuff to say here, but I seem to have forgotten. Tom. Dan. Love. Yes. Sodding hell.