Did I tell you that Nemisis has moved out ?

She is sharing a one bedroom flat in East London with her best friends brother. She has the bedroom, he has the living room. He winds her up by not putting the toilet seat back down and sending her text messages when they run out of bread or milk instead of just going to the shop and buying some more. She told our mother that she won’t be renewing the lease in six months time.

I have never been to Nemesis’ flat and I don’t know the address. I do not have her phone number (neither land line nor mobile). I only have her email address because I noticed it on a message our mother sent to the both of us. I don’t remember how we became ‘friends’ on facebook. I think she was friends with my cousin and I added her because I had loaded a family tree application. She takes months to respond to messages anyway even though I know she spends hours on there each day (she hasn’t activated her privacy settings and everything she does I get notified about). She doesn’t reply to emails either, so I don’t bother sending them anymore.

Mum only has her address because when she turned up at our house to collect her birthday present mum wouldn’t let her leave until she wrote it down for her.

3 weeks later she decided to pay her a visit. She didn’t call to say she was coming round she just decided to turn up one day – because she knew that arranging a time to go round would be impossible. So she turned up and found no one home, called her mobile and made her come back from where ever she was so that she could see where her youngest daughter was living.

that old people smell

My grandparents stayed at our house last night. Their sheltered flat is being fumigated for bedbugs.

Alzheimer Granny got very excited when we got out my baby album. She loves children. She’ll sit in the park and watch them for hours. When she was done cooing over my former cuteness (for I was a little cherub) she launched into her second favourite topic ‘Why aren’t you married yet?’. Fortunately she doesn’t speak any English and I don’t speak any Amharic and my mother has finally learnt that when this litany begins it’s time for her to stop translating.

Intrigued by some rather emphatic and emotive gesturing I got mum to translate the main points. “I’m going to go to Ethiopia and bring you back a husband…I’m going to find you a husband with a car!...The husband I bring you will fly in an aeroplane, he will fly the aeroplane….” And so on and so forth. It was rather sweet and made a change for her usual ‘You’re getting old. Why aren’t you married? You should find a husband so I can look after your babies….’

When she got tired of describing my future spouse she decided she wanted to go home. She paid no heed to my mother repeatedly telling her that her house was full of poison to kill the bed bugs. She got up, hobbled slowly to the front door and tried to escape. ‘The door is still locked!’ she told my mother. ‘I can’t stay here, you didn’t bring my pyjamas !’.

She hobbled back to the sofa and sat down, calmed and distracted by the sparkly costumes in the Blades of Glory DVD I’d put on.

Earth Girl swims the channel -sort of

In an aim to get the most out of my hidiously expensive gym membership I have decided to swim the equivalent of the English channel. That's 33km at my own pace (really slow) and in my own time - deadline November the 30th.

I'll let you know how it goes.

sad bastards

There was a very long que at Euston Station this morning. Aproaching it form the side it looked like a que for the escalators down to the tube platforms. But its wasn't. It was the que for the O2 shop next to the escalators. They were queing to buy iphones. The sad, sad, bastards.

You Pervs part 943

I’ve been keeping a casual eye on my web stats lately and have noticed several new trends. Those of you into 'alternative' sexual practices are still coming to my blog via searches for ‘F***ing Tube’ and ‘German B*ndage’.
Lots of backpackers and tourists are arriving via searches for ‘things to do in Sydney’ and ‘Girls guide to backpacking’. And within the last few days a whole new demographic of Dr Who fans are arriving via searches for 'the Lost Moon of Poosh'.

The misguided celebrity stalkers arriving via searches for ‘N*ked photos of Fern Cotton’ and ‘Fern Cotton P*rn’ seem to be slowly petering out. A indication of her popularity perhaps?

Oh, and I seem to have at least 2 subscribers using feed readers to keep up with my self pity filled rants.

Your band, Your Album

Action is a Thought
by
Temperamento

'And you thought Lady Soverign was the only musical Talent in Wembly' - The Wembley Observer

The rules are thus:

1 - Go to http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Special:Random
The first random Wikipedia article you get is the name of your band.

2 - Go to Random quotations: http://www.quotationspage.com/random.php3
The last four words of the very last quote of the page is the title of your first album.

3 - Go to flickr's "explore the last seven days" http://www.flickr.com/explore/interesting/7days/
Third picture, no matter what it is, will be your album cover.

I have just re-discovered...

...Tipex !

How could i have forgotten about liquid paper ! Since my rediscovery carbon footprint has been reduced by at least a quarter - well maybe not a quarter, but I am certainly using less paper.

What a bloody marvelous invention.

The Lost Moon of Poosh

Rather like an annoying song that gets stuck in on a loop in your head. I have the words ‘The Lost Moon of Poosh’ firmly embedded in my cerebral cortex. Why ? I don't know. That episode of Dr Who was on two days ago. Maybe, its becouse the words have a nice ring to them.

The lost moon of Pooshe disappeared mysteriously thousands of year ago when it was stolen by the Daleks to be used as part of a giant solar system sized death ray designed to wipe out every life form in this and every other universe leaving the Daleks as the only life form in existence.

But the fatal flaw in their thinking was thus. With every other life form in this and every other reality dead. Who would they bully. There would be no planets to invade, no people to ‘Exterminaten!’ what would they do until the end of the universe? Play chess?

They should be glad the Human-Time Lord hybrid Doctor exterminated them all. He saved them from an eternity of boredom.

facebook and why it sucks

I have been spending quite a lot of time on facebook lately in the misguided belief that rekindling old friendships might make me happy. It has not. Reading about the wonderful sucesses my old friends have made of their lives makes me feel like a failure.

I realise that a good many may be exagerating their sucess and that just becouse you are married and have kids it doens't mean that you are happy, but I still can't help feeling envious.

But then I try to look on the bright side. Pehaps a few of them are jealous of me?
Of my perceved freedom in not having a mortgage to tie me down or a husband and childeren to care for or a sucessful career to maintain. Perhaps I should revel in my freedom and stop dweling on things that probably wouldn't make me any happier.

The glass is half empty and the grass will always be greener.