Area 136

I just heard the daftest lyric of the night on Planet Rock.

"Some people are like Gravy"

"Spilled on Gods clean shirt"

Faaaaaaaaaaaaaar out maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan.

deep or what.

I bet the knobber was up for all of five minutes thinking of that nugget.

I don't like them one little bit, never have done and never will.

One of the bastards is constantly making his webby home on the outside door handle to the back door tonight, so every time I come in I almost touch the horrible vile thing!

Just feck off! Is the fact that I have burnt your web down with my zippo three bloody times enough of a warning!

Yargness in the extreme.

According to "Grace note" - the site that my Sonic Stage software uses to get the information for the CD's I am uploading - Judas Priest are "General Pop"

WHAT!?

Get te fuck!

Bollocks.

I am trimming my friends list.

Too many people have done nothing for too long.

I am doing said thing right now.

Why? Because I feel I should. Which must be a bad sign – nothing of any interest will emerge from me sitting here typing the first thing that comes into my head.

I have had a busy morning and will attempt to catch up on stuff on here later after the lunch skulk read listen to music beer thing I tend to do at lunch times.

I am feeling odd but that is just because I am.

It always surprises me when I find out things about my personality that I suspected all along. I don’t know why because surely I know what I am like by now?

Ah random gibberish – it will never go out of fashion. Or rather I will never stop pumping it out, as when I do this sort of thing (sit at my desk gazing vaguely around the room and touch typing as I think) loads of crap comes out.

I wish the house would sell.

I wish it wasn’t raining.

I wish I didn’t gain weight so easily.

I wish I had a huge lake of money.

Wishy wishy wishy.

Time for splishy splashy.

(from the makers of “what the bloody hell is he going on about?”)