As mentally unhinged as an amphibian receptical

Have just been patronised by my computer-smug bastard, went to login and it piped up with the legend "You have 2 programs running. Running too many programs may cause your computer to run more slowly.If you find that your computer is running more slowly try closing down any unwanted programs" I spent a long time trying to think of a clever a retort at this rudeness but felt it would fall on deaf ears. I've been meaning to write another note for some time dear readers(numerous and adoring as you are) but sadly have found no time with which to write it. I know it seems a shameful thing to say given the eagerness with which you wait but sometimes life away from the clicking of my computer(seriously ask Ann it sounds like flipper has been captured and forced into a pc)is well distracting(hmm "well"? what an odd use of word, pleasantly obscure though so shall be left in). What is it that I wanted to share with you? I hear you cry?(two things here, I dont actually hear you cry but would find it pleasantly disturbing if I were to get a god complex and start hearing the voices of my minions-not sure that's the right word but we'll gloss over-the second thing is that I'm aware that the question marks are oddly placed in the previous sentance)Well let me explain:I was asked the other day by a dashing fellow(not a gent of swift movement the other sort)whether I regularly wrote in diaries and such at the end of each day, the answer to this was of course no(for you get absolutely no attention for writing in such things)but that I used to....the realisation filled me with glee and I resolved to delve through the angst of my teenage years and laugh that I would never have dreamed that one day I would be encouraging people to read my diary, deep stuff here guys bear with me....I open a page at random- "Dear diary, I have to talk to someone.I am so nervous I can't stop shaking,(passport)"Oh to be a 16 again-what was this passport related night terror?Was I in league with some underground group and selling them on the black market?Sadly I do not recall(though I imagine if that were the case it may have rung a few bells). There are a LOT of poems in here, each more profound than the next, this one i n particular tickled me imensley:For MeI'm writing because it's time to speak,Free from hurt and pain and greif.Attached happiness to love, mistake,Give it to those who can not take.And when you're flying and life's left you behind,Forget about crying, there's nothing you'll find.It burns and seers and the blood turns to tears,My head starts to pound through hurt lost and found.'Til I know it's too much,'Til I feel through his touch,'Til I search through his dream...And now that I see all that's happened I'm free,And I write not for you, But forever for me.Now I'm guessing what happened is that some object of my teenage desire probably walked passed me in town and, not realising my deep seeded love for him(in his defence it would be unlikely that I'd ever so much as said hello if I'd fancied him)had failed to declare that I was the girl he'd been dreaming of, sad times people sad times-obviously not as sad as the "How do I live without you incident"(have to give a great big shout out to Kate here in manner of cheesey radio presenter)but you know you have to keep up a certain level of dramatics as a teenager in order to understand the raging hormones flying all over the place. Now lets see,is there anything else?Can I salvage any sort of normal thoughts from my teenage self?Let us see...No, sadly not, listen to this:ValentineThe valentine in my head,Is not here, not in my bed.Asleep with dreams,Can't even breathe,Seals my heart without him here,Is he still there?In my heart he is.NOT IN MY BED????!!!I should bloody well think not, floozy! The whole thing is made even sadder by the fact that I had never recieved a valentine at this point(yes Katy,I know,I'll explain:except for the one my brother and sister amusingly sent me in year 8 from "a secret admirer"which I cherished for years until they admitted to the hilarious prank).Anyway I've run out of words again and should probably try to get some sleep,it being five in the morning and all.'Til next time dear and devoted readers, and remember, nothing is ever as bad as it seems (clearly).

The creepy winkingness of strangers

Gah!! Have just looked at my profile properly for the first time in ages,normally I just login,accept a friends request from a girl that served me in tescos ten years ago and then head straight to the lovely notes section where I can roll in the delights of my own words, not today-oh no, not today. I happened to notice I have an application called are you interested? , in the top right hand corner it was happily flashing to me that no less than 4 people were indeed interested-curious and curioser.. I waited the prerequisite ten minutes for my computer to understand that a double click does indeed mean it's going to have to do something wondering who it was that could possibly be interested in me and so blatantly declare it. The page loaded and to my excitement I realised that my computer had actually decided to load an entirely different page and I would have to wait a further ten minutes, I made a coffee, drank it and then realised I was going to need to reboot my computer.There is a slight possibility that my frustrations with my computer are hindering the progress of the story and so I will mention no more of the numerous attempts to get back to the page and will just say that 20minutes later I was looking at the array of men that were interested (I use the word array loosely,4 is more of a smattering really,also the word men may be a smidge inaccurate) All of them are currently living in America which is nice(because I'm not)and all of them seemed to have made particular effort with their profile picture, one of them had a photo of a gun (the charmer),another was doing an uncanny impression of Boy Geaorge from the Kalma Chamaeleon video and the thrid guy had rather invenively listed his age as 23, got proffessional photographs taken and succeeded in passing for 43 and being a bit of a tosser(hmm not used the word tosser before, Iwonder where that came from? sounds awfully proper). Brimming with anticaption at the multitude of possibilities that had presented themselves to me I clicked to read what messages they had chosen to send me(being restrained and not one to twitter on about mundane events for no reason I will not utter a word about my computers response to the clicking, vindictive evil machine that it is). When serendipity and coincidence meet the outcome is inevitably a masterpiece, every one of those four fine fellows had inventively chosen to wink at me. Now I know something of computer dating lingo from friends("there are no friends,you're talking about yourself, don't lie" am I psychic?)and I know that winking is simillar to poking in facebook, none the less I found the whole thing rather disconserting, strange and not one bit attractive men winking at me like some floozy about the town, I feel violated, but also strangely compelled to keep an eye on the application so I may monitor the amount of desperate guys out there so low in self esteem that they see a picture of me glaring unattractively at the camera that they think "ooh! she seems nice" and click yes

I can't help but notice I'm writing another note

As the title suggests I find myself in perplexity-a sensible person would perhaps have written "I find myself perplexed" but that sounds a little more permanant than I would like(it is important to note that I keep looking at what I have written and realising that in some cases I have typed the letters of words but not in the customery order one would expect to find them, does this add to the feeling of perplexity-a word which I am slowly convincing myself does not atuall exsist-? well no, actually it doesn't this is just how I type when I'm not paying attention). I just can't understand why I feel the need to type these things, it's twenty past ten on a Saturday night and I'm sat in front of the computer writing a note to myself(possibly the next one should read:"note to self, get a life", actually that's a little mean I might read it and get upset, it's important to be aware of peoples feelings, end the brackets now damn it it's just irritating(how DO you spell that?)(irritating doesn't look right))So maybe I should try to focus my attention on something else, well the possibilities are endless, with freeview you can literally watch Hollyoaks, first catch Hollyoaks and then watch the whole shibang all over again, thank god that some clever people are clever enough to dedicate their time to such stupidity other wise how would the rest of us function(I love the fact that anyone reading this has imediatley excluded themselves from the title of "us" in much the same way everyone does when they hear the term "the general public" "oh yes!" we think "the general public!, what fools! Gadzooks I'm glad that I have not the misfortune to be one of them").There is a tiny light at the end of the tunnel however,in a moment Derren Brown Trick or Treat will be on and I will be able to wonder at how he manipulates people to such an extent, the clever,clever,sadly gay man ("sadly gay" because I am neither gay or a man just to be clear-"just to be clear" so you don't misread and mistake me homophobic not that I feel you may have thought I was a gay man). Well the light draws near and my patience for having to listen to my mindless babble grows thin,as a rule you should always stop writing when you start to quote yourself, even more so when you are quoting yourself from the previous sentance, goodbye and farewell, thank you for not making me watch a repeat of two pints of lager and a packet of crisps(it wold have been the third time........oh dear)

The Curse Of Irish Mick-Two Out Of Three Aint Bad

Sorry just feeling particulary anti boats today-dreamt I was on Titanic last night and found the whole experience most disagreeable(it is highly likely I made that up). Well it's been a long time since I wrote a note and thought it would be appropriate to give you an update of what's been going on in my life since we last conversed(I have two problems with that sentance the first being that I'm pretty sure that conversed means at odds with and the second being that a random note written for ones self indulgant means could hardly be deemed a conversation-am also well aware I just referred to myself as "one" which officially makes me a wanker). Anyway, I would like to give you a bit of background as to why I would sit here spouting mindless rubbish at a non responsive screen, let me take you away from your own life for a moment and transport you through the mastery of words into mine: I am listening to a song, I think it is supposed to be a love song, the chorus of which is a monotonus reference to the fact that the singers heart is all over the world tonight-what does that even mean? What could he be referring to? is it literal-in which case thats some pretty disturbing imagery- I'm worried I'm getting old I just don't understand, the song has now changed to Girls Aloud-I can't speak french....quite. Anyway back to the rich tapestry of sensations I intend to weave through my intracate and insightful narrative:the music is pretty shit and setting a steady durgey(it's not a word but imagine it is) tempo to my day, there are few people walking around looking at beds-why? why would you look at a divan bed? What are you hoping to achieve?How many times do you think people come in to their bedrooms, pull of the duvet covers and look at their bloody mattreses?I'm sorry but there is nothing more irksome than stupidity, unless it's people who interupt you from a nice spell of staring into space by being stupid-this attitude may possibly be indicative of why I haven't sold anything today.Management are lurking behind the various pillars in the hope of catching a member of staff who isn't doing what they're supposed to-they like to do this when the shop is quiet, gives them a sense of purpose,you can just see their little heads ticking away(I'm not sure why their heads would have clocks in them and you're probably more likely to hear a head clock than to see it really). So anyway to sum it up in a concise manner: I am utterly bored,again, genuinely themost exciting thing that has happened today is that I have put on a new red headband and it looks rather fetching, still nothing to write home about(something to write an entirely note about though obviously)think of me when you're busy doing things,I will be here listening to a song by a group of girls who think that the world would be surprised to discover that they are not bilingual x

If Worse Things Happen At Sea Why Go On Boats?

Sorry just feeling particulary anti boats today-dreamt I was on Titanic last night and found the whole experience most disagreeable(it is highly likely I made that up). Well it's been a long time since I wrote a note and thought it would be appropriate to give you an update of what's been going on in my life since we last conversed(I have two problems with that sentance the first being that I'm pretty sure that conversed means at odds with and the second being that a random note written for ones self indulgant means could hardly be deemed a conversation-am also well aware I just referred to myself as "one" which officially makes me a wanker). Anyway, I would like to give you a bit of background as to why I would sit here spouting mindless rubbish at a non responsive screen, let me take you away from your own life for a moment and transport you through the mastery of words into mine: I am listening to a song, I think it is supposed to be a love song, the chorus of which is a monotonus reference to the fact that the singers heart is all over the world tonight-what does that even mean? What could he be referring to? is it literal-in which case thats some pretty disturbing imagery- I'm worried I'm getting old I just don't understand, the song has now changed to Girls Aloud-I can't speak french....quite. Anyway back to the rich tapestry of sensations I intend to weave through my intracate and insightful narrative:the music is pretty shit and setting a steady durgey(it's not a word but imagine it is) tempo to my day, there are few people walking around looking at beds-why? why would you look at a divan bed? What are you hoping to achieve?How many times do you think people come in to their bedrooms, pull of the duvet covers and look at their bloody mattreses?I'm sorry but there is nothing more irksome than stupidity, unless it's people who interupt you from a nice spell of staring into space by being stupid-this attitude may possibly be indicative of why I haven't sold anything today.Management are lurking behind the various pillars in the hope of catching a member of staff who isn't doing what they're supposed to-they like to do this when the shop is quiet, gives them a sense of purpose,you can just see their little heads ticking away(I'm not sure why their heads would have clocks in them and you're probably more likely to hear a head clock than to see it really). So anyway to sum it up in a concise manner: I am utterly bored,again, genuinely themost exciting thing that has happened today is that I have put on a new red headband and it looks rather fetching, still nothing to write home about(something to write an entirely note about though obviously)think of me when you're busy doing things,I will be here listening to a song by a group of girls who think that the world would be surprised to discover that they are not bilingual x

Boring Day, Boring Words Ipso Facto

Why is it that you spend your days at work thinking of all the lovely things you're going to do on your days off only to find that on your days off you can't find anything of any merit to actually do? Like when you have no money and the shops are a veritable treasure trove of delights, designed it seems with your tastes alone in mind-then you get paid, rush to the shops and everything has inexplicably vanished. Where does everything disappear to? Like a New Years resolve to be a better, more rounded person(not literally obviously, I have no great desire to be round in a physical sense) good intentions seem to disperse as easily as the milk Mark has left out on the kitchen side for the past week has curdled(not the best analogy but just wanted to point out that Mark seems to have no understanding of the preventative measures one can take to delay the perishing of foodstuffs-namely utilising the fridge). Yes mother dear, if you're reading this, I am indeed in your home enjoying a day off- in order to make it seem more homely I have brought a selection of clothes from the flat scattered them about the place and then left a small damp pile mouldering(could be a word, probably isn't) in the washing machine awaiting your return....am I joking? who knows its quite the riddle. Anyway, Shockingly I have digressed, quite out of character I'm sure you will agree(ficticious audience that hangs on my every poorly spelt word)my point is that I seem to spend all my time gazing whisfully out of the make believe window (Debenhams has an unatural aversion to daylight) at work, thinking of things that would be better than doing what I'm doing right now, and then instead of actually doing them when I'm given the opportunity I procrastinate, you might even(but only if your being honest) say that I am doing just that now, convincing myself that writing a nonsensical (really, I need to get a dictionary or at least pay attention to some of the books I read, I have no concept at all of spelling-well actually that's wrong I do have a concept of spelling, what I mean is I have no ability in the area)load of gibberish(yes I agree the text in the brackets was so long you kind of forgot what I was saying before hand didn't you?). So with this startling revelation of my own short comings I am going to bid you farewell and get on with my day, just as soon as I can remember what it was I was so desperate to do.

Do Not Read This It Will Bore You

Why is it that you spend your days at work thinking of all the lovely things you're going to do on your days off only to find that on your days off you can't find anything of any merit to actually do? Like when you have no money and the shops are a veritable treasure trove of delights, designed it seems with your tastes alone in mind-then you get paid, rush to the shops and everything has inexplicably vanished. Where does everything disappear to? Like a New Years resolve to be a better, more rounded person(not literally obviously, I have no great desire to be round in a physical sense) good intentions seem to disperse as easily as the milk Mark has left out on the kitchen side for the past week has curdled(not the best analogy but just wanted to point out that Mark seems to have no understanding of the preventative measures one can take to delay the perishing of foodstuffs-namely utilising the fridge). Yes mother dear, if you're reading this, I am indeed in your home enjoying a day off- in order to make it seem more homely I have brought a selection of clothes from the flat scattered them about the place and then left a small damp pile mouldering(could be a word, probably isn't) in the washing machine awaiting your return....am I joking? who knows its quite the riddle. Anyway, Shockingly I have digressed, quite out of character I'm sure you will agree(ficticious audience that hangs on my every poorly spelt word)my point is that I seem to spend all my time gazing whisfully out of the make believe window (Debenhams has an unatural aversion to daylight) at work, thinking of things that would be better than doing what I'm doing right now, and then instead of actually doing them when I'm given the opportunity I procrastinate, you might even(but only if your being honest) say that I am doing just that now, convincing myself that writing a nonsensical (really, I need to get a dictionary or at least pay attention to some of the books I read, I have no concept at all of spelling-well actually that's wrong I do have a concept of spelling, what I mean is I have no ability in the area)load of gibberish(yes I agree the text in the brackets was so long you kind of forgot what I was saying before hand didn't you?). So with this startling revelation of my own short comings I am going to bid you farewell and get on with my day, just as soon as I can remember what it was I was so desperate to do.