i think that coq roq that actually be the worst thing ever. every page is detestable on every level. i'm not going to quote from it because that would involve going back there, and it's absolutely hideous. quick pointers include the subversive lyrics, the remix section, and their 'political' bass player, 'free range'. people have gone to real effort on this website. hide your faces you marketing scumbags.

oh bejaysus. the night after the hat 'gig' i saw dan the lead singer in the chazza trying on hats. after he'd left, i heard the staff talking about him as if he'd nicked something! as if - he's a local celebrity! dan stealing hats - it would be like, well, norman cook stealing beats.

and then last night we had this really good roast and i thought it would be ok to pour some of the cooking oil onto the veg and oh crikey it was horrible and i felt like that bit in 'three kings' where mark e. mark has crude oil poured down his throat and fortunately we were watching the best bad film, 'gen x cops 2: metal mayhem' courtesy of tommy's adventure in the 99p shop ('everything's under a pound!' what they don't mention is that the pound in question is a dog's home upstairs) so i could live through it. tonight we watched the other side of the dvd (yes! double sided action for under a pound!) 'sworn to justice' which, if it's title had been as descriptive as the other side (or indeed, 'the english man who went up a hill and came down a mountain') would be called 'psychic love vigilante: your men killed my sister and nephew and i want karate tits vengence in my spare time'. it wasn't a good bad film - lead actress cynthia rothrock, a martial arts champion, really sold out by participating in two sex scenes. bruce lee would never do that. but then her love interest kicked arse too, so it works both ways in this film. of course, she couldn't be a mother and a fighter. that just wouldn't do. but maybe i'm just criticising a fusion between two genres i know very little about.

i was down the chazza buying clothes. i spent more money on clothes that day - 50 quid! - than in all my years at university put together. i bought nice three charity shirts for a tenner, but my luck ran out on trousers. i never realised quite how skinny i am, having lived with alex for two years, but i couldn't find a pair that fitted me (there was one, but it was a rank brown colour, i mean completely unwearable darling). so i took myself down primark. fortunately it was closed, but next door was marks and spencer's.. upon enterting the men's section i declared, "bring me four pairs of your cheapest suit trousers!" ultimately i bought the two well fitting pairs they had - 32 waist, 31 leg (actually, 30 waist is a perfect fit, but it felt better having a bit of tuck room). so what brought on this madness? why was i chasing cloth around time all day, having my hair cut and shaving all of a sudden?
compromise, my lovelies. i can always grow my hair once i have a job. it's harder to say, 'you're getting a bit long around the ears' than it is to not hire someone based on some deep-seated shit office prejucide. got i hate service-sector cogs!
i have actually been wondering about killing myself. i mean, really, what is the point? what actually is the point? actually? really? honestly? what's the point? seriously? ooh, i could make the world a better place, but you know.. if you're in dire straits, you've just got even more reason to kill yourself. am i only here to compensate for people who buy battery eggs?
no. i am part of the problem.

i could apologise for that last paragraph, something like 'that's just the dole talking' but it's quite difficult to fault looking back on it.

shit my eyes hurt.
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