jayseven

So we wait for moogle to come on and say "hey, I'm a killer but a goodie!" then we go "oh so you're good? How do we know you can trust me?" then he says "well.. I guess... It's just my word against yours..." yaddah yaddah yaddah, skip-to-the-end, Vote: Moogleviper.

1. A villanelle, iambic tetrameter'd. Kinda. Apologies for any spelling errors; after a while words ending in "ght" really started freaking me out. In dreams of seas and astronaughts; Small waves held high above the low With sparks drawn blue from my cold thoughts. I painted crabs on seismic faults And saw bubbles replace echoes In dreams of seas and astronaughts. No knives or spoons I brung or brought Could stop me carve my name in snow With sparks drawn blue from my cold thoughts I fished with skiis 'till I'd be caught Still dusting armadillos toes In dreams of seas and astronaughts Ten cats with guns to guard my fort From dots and dashes charging slow With sparks drawn blue from my cold thoughts He laughed and screamed in garbled squarks, And smelled of bracelets made from gold In dream of seas and astronaughts With sparks drawn blue from my cold thoughts First attempt. No editing. That's why it's lame.

Why're you telling me that? Not like I'm disagreeing with that notion

Dante; That comedy sketch where four scousers are arguing about who had the worst childhood, one-upping each other's stories to make out like their own lives are worse than everyone elses. I might've gotten the name wrong, I'll check it out at some point.

But Rokhed, we don't let our problems define us. This isn't the Four Scousers, or something.

Elephant was made way before Paranoid Park so perhaps you would've enjoyed it more watching it first.

English studies. Combination of lang, lit and creative writing (which rox). This module is children's language and literature. Yeah it is fun by-and-large Wish I had more of that motivan stuff to get me through it, mind.

does he? Yes, he does. He cares for the other person who ordered the game, who will probably not even start trying to get his money/game back for a few days thinking it's the post. The other occassions aren't part of this equation. We all have our attitudes, Rokhed. As for how he feels towards you, if it bothers you then say something to him rather than using it to undertone what you say.

... but odwin cares more about other people in this situation :P delving into other matters makes it personal, which does nothing but prove that you're getting wound up by this.

Last night I went to the Nelson pub and corp club; rock places. I wore stupid clothes that made the pretentious people more pretentious. Didn't bring enough money to get drunk enough, but met a couple of people off of my course who were sound enough. Also met the band that were playing in the club, and they encouraged me to download their stuff! Now if only I can remember their name... Shorty's got GTA4 going, so I'm gonna go watch him play, then maybe go for some outdoor drinkies if the weather's alright enough for my friend. Oh yeah, and somethingaboutessaythatigottadomumblemumble...

Happy birthday. I remember the days when you were famous for your signatures, not your avatar. SO MUCH HAS CHANGED! Enjoy geetea, eh?

original, or remake?

Darkcloud; a multitude of awesomeness is streaming from that picture. Hope you're doing well for yourself.

I gotta write... a fairy tale, for friday - along with a commentary. It sounds easy enough, but it's worth 60% and I'm rather worried there's some sort of catch, or something. Of course, I've not started it yet, but I have done a fair amount of background reading. Then two exams, and I'm done for the year. Not too shabby.

I think you're thinking about 'winning' in the wrong way. The game is about who ends up with control of the town. A neutral as a theoretical person in this town may exist without the perameters that normal townies need to win for one reason or another. I see no problem with having multiple winners.

if you scroll tol the bottom of any page, you'll see a bunch of other links including one for 'scrobbers', which should lead you to a page full of scobblers compatible with a range of music players

... My profile never updates anymore. Just before I started listening to music more I turned off the audioscrobbler icon that i used to have in my system tray and now I dunno how to get it back... http://www.last.fm/user/jayseven/ duh. ... which is probably about 3 years out of date, really.

I dreamt that I'd gotten home for summer and on the first day, the first meal my mum goes "what do you want for breakfast?" ... Cereal, I say. "No milk. What else?" Um.. Toast? "No bread." In side teh fridge I see some bacon and eggs. Can I have those then mum? "No! You bloody well can't." Well what can I have! There's no milk, no bread and you won't let me have a fry up! "Cabbage." What? "Cabbage." I decided I wasn't hungry anymore. Turning around, I was now in a room full of beds and a large fishtank. there were some old people just watching the fishtank as if it was a TV, and in the other beds were various relatives and friends having sex with their partners/close friends. I didn't really know where to look, and felt a bit annoyed that first I couldn't have any breakfast and now I wasn't having any sex. I went through a door, and entered the first of three rooms which have recurring properties in my dreams - the first is a white plushly carpeted room, full of up to date gadgets and whatnot, but no seating. My friend is sitting there bare-footed, glowering at my shoes. I take them off, and he passes me some mail I've gotten - it's my coursework! sent back, but... with presents? DVDs and CDS, cases all too thin to be legal.. But I don't mind! I don't even bother to check what my results are. The next room is more of a garden - my friend from back home's garden (in the dream, anyway). I meet and talk to him behind a large bird-caged-area, in between the chicken-wired fence and the shrubbery. We talk without really looking at each other, and wonder where all the birds went. He tells me he has something to show me, so we head further down the garden, down a sloped array of paving stones damp with dew. To the right is a cliff-like wall that goes on past the seeming end of the garden. There is a trickle of a stream running to the left that cuts the garden path off, and swells into a wide, bowl-like pond that has a waterfall leading off it at the end farthest from me. We stop and sit by a horizontal waterwheel. My friend is squatting and I'm cross legged, and still without looking at me, he talks. He talks about choices, about possibilities and unity and mystery, all the while opening and closing one of those school-ground fortune telling paper-makes. He turns to me, and says "but where are all the fish?" As I stand up, looking in and around the water, I find myself in a dream-friend's kitchen - as in, a person that I do not recognise as being any of my real friends. I realise I'm supposed to be fetching something, and look around for some sort of clue - but everything is too broken and clean. There's no bottles anywhere for drinks, or hints as to snackages. The tabletops are splintering, the utensils melted. The fridge is humming a strange intermissant tattoo. I turn the tap on, and it doesn't squeak - but it doesn't work either. I follow the pipe along the wall to about eye-level, and see a chunk of the pipe is gone, but the water is continuing to flow from one part to another without interruption. The dream-friend enters the kitchen, wondering what's taking me so long, and the pipe comes clean off the wall and starts spraying the kitchen uncontrollably. The room becomes sealed, and I realise that I'm drowning underwater when I notice everything is floating. I lose sense of which way is up, and the floating mass and detritus confuses me as to the original position of the ways out. I swim in one direction for a while, then another, then a third, unsure how long I can last, and unsure whether I should just pick one direction and hope for the best. I start to sense I'm going not even in circles, but in spheres, realising rapidly that I can't hold my breath for much longer... Then I wake up :/ bit of a long read (not that anyone does) but when I woke up I made sure to remember the more potent images. Freudian self-analysis is fun. Plus some of the scenes have been recurring; the garden is often there, as is drowning - which is odd as swimming used to be a theme but I don't get that so much. I just remembered that at some point two of my teeth fell out too. Oh well!

Vote: O_W. Hate to be a sheep, but you're a neutral and to be honest it's better than letting the day slip away again.

Actually, I could imagine it would be quite awesome to experience this. Downside is the whole.. y'know... inaccessability side of things! Not sure I'd be too keen to do it in front of a large audience either, meself, but if it was at home then sure I'd hold hands manly for many a session

Currently very aware that I only have one and a half cans of cider left. No point leaving any, which means I have to find something to populate my time -- which means going to bed at 4 at the earliest, which means missing uni tomorrow again, which means I've still failed to go to uni since before easter... Hmm. Read multiple versions of Rapunzel today. Lettuce has never seemed so ridiculous. Watched Lost in Translation, and am currently debating the choice between deuce bigalow, citizen kane, bowling for columbine, some like it hot and Alan partridge series 1. Such is life. Been getting all hyper recently about the onsetting summer, consciously avoiding the struggles it will involve with my ex and our shared friends. Suddenly I'm aware about how lame it will be; remembering how silly my friends are, how insane and quirky they can be as well as their lack of reliability. I think I'm going to fall back into the plan to work my ass off - both with my summer job and also with the pen-and-paper thingum. Just immerse myself. Worried that I'll not have anything new to watch, seeing as I've averaged two tv seasons per week over the last 2 months or so... Money shall be exiting my pocket swiftly. er, yeah, back on topic; Fuck today for the minor parts. Praise it for the large. Here's hoping that I'll remember more frequently just how petty it all is. EDIT: and ash; hope the whole split-thing isn't too shocking or naught. You know where I'm at for a bitching session if you ever want it! I'm sure I can give as good as I get.

Yeah like, I dunno, the park! *still does not see why a pub would be better than the quiet, undercrowded, fresh-air of the park*

... You coulda just said that you celebrate everything crazy-styleé. *goes to rest his poor clicking finger*

£2? Buses are more expensive in brighton, matey!

That's nice and all, but you wanna hurry up and disband/retreat so that we can get this over with? Russia's got 18 at the end of this turn, I think.