i'm superhorney, like single malt whiskey...

the ultimate sick jokes page? now lets never talk of that again. what's really sad is the repitition - people should take some responsibility for their jokes. god, i'm so sick of dead baby jokes now, although i remember Thom being sick of them first. Joel had a really good one though last night, on the way to his induction to Grub's. what was it? there was something kind of superior about it...

meanwhile, as i was drifting off to sleep last night, thought about the concept of "meeting up for a drink". what's that all about, eh? it stares us in the face, how insecure we all are, everytime we want to meet someone. "lets me up for something to occupy our hands, and distract us from each other, and fill in the silences when we run out of things to say, and relax(alcohol)/stimulate(caffine) us so that we can interact better."

the weekend was excellent. Father and i left warslow at seven(?), got to brighton about 11.15, then picked up an Eshna's and got to the house. i had been allocated the same room as last year, and since Jess had done the same, and entirely recreated her old room, i was left with the piano on the other side of my wall.
what did i say? what was the one thing (or an otter) i didn't want this year? fortunately, i'm an 'easy going guy' (or so i tell girls online) and i don't actually care that much. i got my amp. yup.
so during our curry, Mitri says we should unload the car now, while it's quiet. so we lug all the stuff into my room; it only took me a couple of hours (three) to pack it up, since a lot was still in the boxes it was brought in. and then, at one in the morning, he says: "right. i think i'll go home now." his eyes were really wired, and he's raring to get it out of the way. he drove to somewhere round brummygam way, slept, got home at eight, slept until twelve. the mad bastard.

the next day, we Laurence and i said hello to brighton. hung out in dave's (i copied and pasted that sentence from an old post). actively didn't buy ceedees. because i just got an old David Wrench record from '97, where he does a very good Nick Cave impression throughout, and an MJ Hibbett record. and that night, we went to the Sanctuary Cafe (see last post). he was class, and the guys after him, actually only one astronaut and a friend of his on guitar, was absolutely excellent. someone was fiddling with a delay effect too, which was fun, but didn't really improve the performance. and then Rosie's party, which was the best for ages, because every one was so nice to me. people normally turn their noses up, like my grandma susan always said they would. so thanks to every one who was there for making it so nice. sunday... wait a minute, i'll just check Laur's blog... right enough, dave's diner, house shop, house meeting, it's all there. seeing Beth again was delightful. drunk some single malt. went to bed.


and last night, was Astra and Abi and the Warmal pub (or something). hugely delightful, and full of vaguely familiar pretty faces. please go next time she's on. her songs are rather deep; i can't find it in myself to write stuff like that, or Martha Tilston. maybe my life just isn't that emotional. i think the last actual song i wrote was 'Edmond'.


the only other thing i have to say is: i'm planning on playing ultimate frisbee again this year. need to work on my forehand, as my gfinger still hurts when i try that one.

love,
grilly.x