Saturday, July 24, 2004
Three tiny tidbits from my actual factual (as opposed to virtual wirtual) life for y'all:
1. Went to a wedding, got maaaad drunk, fell asleep in then fell out of a tree, ripped the pants of my brother's favourite suit (he never reads this shizzle anyway), and then passed out in a clump of jerusalem artichokes, thereby missing out on sniping an auction for a DS pair of 1st Edition Wovens that I'd been having sleepless nights over. Some kind of lesson ought to have been learnt, but unfortunatly more synapses destroyed than created.
2. Had dinner at the Wolseley on Thursday, sat at a table next to Nigel Havers. UPDATE: 31/7/4 Many thanks to eagle eyed readers Sam and Will who pointed out that what I had originally written about Nige was both factually incorrect and defamatory. Wrists duly slapped. Much as I believe in the freedom to slander and libel at will on the web, in this case I'm issuing my first ever retraction.
3. Someone relatively well known to me got his face splashed across the tabloids for stalking Abi Titmuss. I shall preserve what remains of his anonymity/dignity/career by not naming/shaming. What really interested me was that, because I know him, I instantly started rationalising it as a little slip-up, not a ghastly abusive crime. Kind of like the wives of serial killers and rapists who never accept that their spouses are evil madmen. By the time I saw these hott pictures of Miss Titmuss (1,2,3,4) I was almost sympathising with my creepy stalking acquaintance. Not sympathetic enough to consider breaking into her apartment building and screaming at her through the letterbox until she called the police (twice in three days, idiot), but I kinda knew where he was coming from.
I wish there was more stuff on the ole internut that I just had no comprehension of. Trouble is I'm such a zeitgeisty little hipster that I'm practically always up to date on everything. Occasionally I find something utterly wonderfully bemusing: meet icanstilltellyourwifebill.com and Free Hockey Chicken. Ultra-hipsters can explain the weirdness via the comments. When your apartment gets invaded by 60,000 angry bees, ensure you ignore the advice of professionals, instead you rely on Hollywood actor Dustin Hoffman to save your sorry ass. Yet another Kim Jong-Il classic: Pyongyang has one of the world's tallest buildings at 330m, but it remains an empty shell, because construction halted 12 years ago, before the interior could be fitted. Bid for 50 plastic fetuses, though as a point of fact 12 week fetuses cannot be identifed as either gender, so they are not, as claimed, all male. MyRank is an awesome little chunk of html. Check the sidebar to see a live update of this site's Google Pagerank. 'Illarious photo of ball boys at Wimbledon having their eyes distinctly off the ball, and on erm...Maria Sharapova's shapely thighs.
1. Went to a wedding, got maaaad drunk, fell asleep in then fell out of a tree, ripped the pants of my brother's favourite suit (he never reads this shizzle anyway), and then passed out in a clump of jerusalem artichokes, thereby missing out on sniping an auction for a DS pair of 1st Edition Wovens that I'd been having sleepless nights over. Some kind of lesson ought to have been learnt, but unfortunatly more synapses destroyed than created.
2. Had dinner at the Wolseley on Thursday, sat at a table next to Nigel Havers. UPDATE: 31/7/4 Many thanks to eagle eyed readers Sam and Will who pointed out that what I had originally written about Nige was both factually incorrect and defamatory. Wrists duly slapped. Much as I believe in the freedom to slander and libel at will on the web, in this case I'm issuing my first ever retraction.
3. Someone relatively well known to me got his face splashed across the tabloids for stalking Abi Titmuss. I shall preserve what remains of his anonymity/dignity/career by not naming/shaming. What really interested me was that, because I know him, I instantly started rationalising it as a little slip-up, not a ghastly abusive crime. Kind of like the wives of serial killers and rapists who never accept that their spouses are evil madmen. By the time I saw these hott pictures of Miss Titmuss (1,2,3,4) I was almost sympathising with my creepy stalking acquaintance. Not sympathetic enough to consider breaking into her apartment building and screaming at her through the letterbox until she called the police (twice in three days, idiot), but I kinda knew where he was coming from.
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