Sunday, April 29, 2007
Having a Wanky Time
Well this weekend has been rubbish. Really it has. Firstly, Thursday night I went over to Angie's and got far too drunk on cheap cider, Friday I went to try and pay the gas bill and Lecky bill, was sent all the way around town for ages and grr... oh it did my head in. How the hell are you supposed to pay your bills when nowhere will let you? Anyways, I enventually found a paypoint and paid one, the other one wouldnt "scan" properly or something... I think the woman was lying just to piss me off.
Anyway - after some weird german butcher brandished a knife at me armed with "garlicky lard" as "The Boyfriend" puts it and I spent far too much money on Disney videos (yes - I am a serial killer) I went home and had Kangeroo for dinner (all of this is true) it was very tasty.
That night "The Boyfriend" and I had our first major, major argument (Ie: me crying and threatnig to break things as he looks on clueless) and it was all about fucking class! Class? who gives a shit?
You see "The Boyfriend" is a nice middle class boy and his middle name is Charles and everything. Also, like most nice middle class kids he has a truckload of tean angst that didn't evaporate when he passed Twenty. He tells his mum and dad all kinds of things about me which are not true (or not strictly true - like, I make a joke and he tells them that I hate their house in all honesty - retard). And the reason why he does this is because he wants to piss them off. It's kinda like he uses me to annoy them 'cos I didnt grow up in an Enid Blyton book and he did or something (smugglers and dogs called George and all that), which in turn makes me very angry and accusing him of using me as a wepon against his family (which - in all honesty - is nothing to do with me) and in turn question the reasons why he's with me (ie. just 'cos his mum and dad are gaurenteed not to like me, 'cos lets face it, no boyfriends parents have ever liked me, I'm either too common or too posh - cant win) and I warn you now, Every-fucking-word of that conversation is going in my new play in some way shape or form.
Anyways, Saturday, and we print off our scripts and have to run all over Leicester to get them to Sarah F in time and its a nightmare and the damned woman in the post office lied to me and was obnoxious. Have a sneaky suspision it was the same woman with the lecky bill. Also had a Leftbank burger, which was disapointing (and they are usually sooo nice!)
Saturday night and I'm in a mood. We go to the fair and I have a fairly good time having never ridden a ghost train before and Hoffmole went on the spinny-thing-that-dosent-strap-you-in-and-looks-like-will-cause-death and when he came off his hair was, like REALLY big! Afterwards we went to the pub and were tempted into doing Kareoke. I sang Heaven is a Place on Earth (in the style of Courtney Love) and LDN. Waderunna did Material girl and Son of a preacher Man and Hoffmoles rendition of Gay Bar must be on yootube somewhere by now! also Ebeneezer Goode ala Hoffmole was not to be missed... man it was like wrong.
so in the end it wasnt so bad :)