Friday, January 03, 2003

*giggles hysterically in the direction of*

Heh heh.. I think my darling wife is rather annoyed at what I called her. It's not as if I do it all the time though - there's a time, a place, and a tone of voice to call one's better half "Stanzi" you know. And she is my ickle Stanzi anyway - she's Mouse Wouse and I'm her Ratty-Watty and I like to pounce-bounce her with my paw-claws.... PAW CLAWS PAW CLAWS!!!!!!!!!

And just because this blog couldn't get any more pointless, a little extract from Peter Shaffer's "Amadeus"

"Stanzi-Wanzi had a fit
Shit her stays and made them split
When they took away her skirt
Stanzi-Wanzi ate the dirt!"

Thank you, you've been a wonderful audience, I'll be here all night. Tip your waitress.

Or do I perhaps mean tup your waitress? (Down, Liam! See the box? Back in the box!)
Yay! I finally updated Purely Derivative! Remember readers - only Purely Derivative gives you your Recomended Daily Amount of Trashy Plot Devices and Rubbish, start reading today! At the bottom, prefferably, then it may stand a chance of making sense....

"When you said we were going to a mall I thought you meant we were going to watch people getting savaged by wild animals! This.. this is HORRIBLE!"

I really don't understand shopping centres. I mean I understand them in principle - in principle they are just very large markets. But why are they so damned popular? Alright, so there are lots of shops in them that you would otherwise have to travel a long way between, but how many of them would you normally seek out to go to? I went to Bluewater, and I went in La Senza, L'Occitane and some other relatively poshly named place that set my sinuses off and gave me a sniffle for the rest of the day - in any case, would I normally go to these shops? Nope. Not in England anyway, I go to L'Occitane when I'm in France, where it is actually reasonably priced. But I had a good time anyway - I was with the Wife. Smiley Rat.

I saw the new Rolls Royce today, the first one made by BMW - it's disgusting, nothing like the old Rollers that I know and love, I wouldn't be seen dead in one of these. It's called a Rolls Royce Phantom, presumably so named because it's expensive, has a reputation for being elegant, contains engineering that is over 40 years old and is hideously ugly. However, unlike Monsieur Erik, the Rolls Phantom lacks the decency to cover it up. However, the news report on this did give me a few giggles;

"The Phantom was inspected inside and out by journalists"

"The Phantom is expected to be shipped to America later this year depending on demand"

and of course my personal favorite;

"The Phantom, with its elegant rear exit capabilities, is sure to be a hit with the upper class Ladies"


Monday, December 30, 2002

OK I just know I'm going to regret this one, but I was trawling the 'Net and look what I found. The Top Ten Reasons why Sheep Are Better Than Women, TM.

10. You don't have to be in a fraternity.
9. They're always on all fours
8. You don't have to buy them dinner
7. They can't complain
6. Men can run faster
5. Guaranteed to make animal noises
4. Easy entry
3. No foreplay required
2. Wham Bam Thank you Lamb
1. They're always tight

Not that I agree, but I am very amused....
Did you ever have a few days where you have just been in an absolutely filthy mood, and because you have no idea why it is you just ignore the bad mood and most of the time you feel fine? Then something really quite insignificant happens and you start getting very hot all over and you can feel your eyeballs filling up with blood and you just want to throw something or scream or strangle someone. No reason at all behind it. OK, here's the things I got homicidally upset about in the past few days...

1. Having to delay my trip to London for one bloody day. Big deal.
2. The Vicomte sending Ma'mselle some flowers. Again I say big deal.
3. The fact that my parents don't own a plastic fish slice but DO own very expensive non-stick pans, one of which I was trying to use at the time of discovering this fact. Actually there were several things that made steam come out of my ears and this one may just have been a reasonable temper fit. The front of the drawer fell on my foot, I burnt my finger, I got egg substitute in my eye WHICH HURT, and my pancake batter decided not to work. All that happened in the course of one concerto, I think that one was justified.

Oh, I also nearly had a row with my mother because she said something in the wrong tone of voice, or I heard it wrong, or something. The basic gist is that I was being a moody cow. Mooody.

On the upside I have a new journal. It's nothing fancy but it is very black and hardback and has my name and the year written in the front all nice and curly in red, and a red ribbon to mark my place. So I'm happy, and can start the year with something to prattle in. And don't worry faithful readers, this does not mean that your beloved VVR is leaving The Doll's House unattended. My journals make very dull reading, unless you're interested in how late trains are these days and how difficult souffles can be sometimes, or who happens to be sueing who that I know, or who's dating who and who's been unfaithful lately. OK I can see how that could actually be quite interesting. If you want to know my friend's deepest darkest secrets, read my journal. If you want to know mine, read my mind.

Oooh. I think I made an epigram. Smiley rat.

Also, I have a fedora AT LAST. Yay me, now I have a groovy hat to keep Lancaster rain out of my eyes and cover up my crooked bits! And don't fedoras just look *so* good with a cloak? ;) Sigh, I'm a walking cliche I know but there's just something about a swirly cloak and a big hat that does it for the laydees, and when they're swooning in the good way over my clothes, they won't be swooning in the bad way over my big nose, mishapen eye, smile that looks like I've had a stroke or lack of jawline. Score! Now to see if I can wheedle enough for a tailcoat out of my father....

Sunday, December 29, 2002

Ahhh! Trash, trash - the lot of it!!! NEVER let me near a computer when I'm that freaked out!

I have a dress for my 21st birthday family party thing. It's red and black velvet with black lacing all the way down the from and a sort of kicked frill round the bottom, and bell sleeves trimmed with lace and it is GORGEOUS! Finally, once in my miserable finacial life I could afford to shop at The Black Rose Gothic Emporium - I am now contented. As you can probably guess this means I went to Camden, yesterday in fact, and have only just got up because I got back yesterday utterly shattered having been up and down Camden Town for hours (which was fun, but the kind of fun that makes your legs hurt in the end) then we ran around on the underground for ages making silly cracks about Neverwhere and playing spot-the-POTO-poster (There is a huge run of about six different ones up the escalator in one station - though I can't remember which one now) then got utterly lost on the way to Hanover Square, ending up in St James Park when we should have been nearer Hyde Park Corner. *sigh* above ground navigation really not my forte. But we did get to listen to the bells in Westminster which was fun. Decided not to go dance around Covent Garden as the lovely Wife was hungry and we would both have got entirely too tempted to spend hours wandering around the Opera House.

So we headed back to Victoria, and I went home and collapsed on the sofa. What a day....