| on teatime (civ. journal: beatrice atwood) |
[29 Sep 2008|11:11am] |
Alfie.
I am not. Wait, let me format this so you can't possibly misunderstand.
I AM NOT GOING TO TEA WITH YOU AND MUM.
Really, honestly, any other day I wouldn't mind. But unlike you, I have an actual existing occupation and I have to get to Bangladesh and back by tomorrow. So please, accept my apologies, but I'm going to need a rain check.
Get tickets to that sports thing and I might go to that, all right. There's a cricket event, right?
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| on couturiers (civ. journal: diana villiers) |
[05 Sep 2008|11:23am] |
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I am so fucking sick of the French. I'm sticking with the Italian houses next time, I swear.
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| on grand theft auto (civ. journal: diana villiers) |
[20 Aug 2008|02:28am] |
I don't know which is more insulting -- the fact that someone thought that they could carjack a motherfucking Aston-Martin and get away with it, or the idea that someone thought they could effectively dispatch me in doing so.
Either way, he certainly won't be bothering any other motorists any time soon. Or breathing through his nose.
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| on holidays in the sun (civ. journal: diana villiers) |
[05 Aug 2008|06:22pm] |
Brazil was the same as always (IE, muggy and full of fucking snakes), though we took the briefest of side trips at Rio de Janeiro for some sun and sand. I love my job.
Reade, hopefully next time you'll listen when I say the swimming with the dolphins package isn't the best idea. Unless you enjoyed it, that is.
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| on austria (civ. journal: diana villiers) |
[23 Jul 2008|01:12am] |
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If it doesn't start cooling down again soon, I'm moving back to Salzburg. I don't care how red those salt miners are, I am sick and tired of sweltering all day. And at least there, the strudels are fresh.
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| on starving (civ. journal: diana villiers) |
[16 Jul 2008|11:16pm] |
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... Where is dinner?
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| on arseholes (civ. journal: beatrice atwood) |
[06 Jul 2008|11:15pm] |
How do you get an obnoxious commie Englishman out of your house.
You'd think I'd know already, but I was blessed enough to spend precious little of my childhood with him.
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| on incarceration (civ. journal: beatrice atwood) |
[26 Jun 2008|06:26pm] |
reade you little shit
where the fuck are you
jesus christ, three days might have been okay but it has been THREE FUCKING DAYS
I KNOW YOUR HANDS ARE A LITTLE PREOCCUPIED IN PERMANENT WANK POSITION BUT IS IT SO MUCH TO ASK FOR YOU TO PICK UP A GUN AND COME GET ME IN A TIME OF CRISIS
oh my christ i need a fag right now
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| on foreign affairs (civ. journal: diana villiers) |
[12 Jun 2008|10:09am] |
And once again, I survive an extended business holiday with nothing more than a casual grasp of cash register Italian. Impressive, if I do say so myself.
Being technically a resident of jolly old England, I'll refrain from remarking on the current elections.
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| on motor vehicles (civ. journal: diana villiers) |
[21 May 2008|07:40pm] |
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Where the fuck is my bike.
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| on subway activism (civ. journal: diana villiers.) |
[13 May 2008|08:39pm] |
Jesus Christ, I am so tired of people shoving their ideologies down my throat when they clearly don't even live it out themselves. There's nothing more aggravating than the uneducated activist.
On a related note, I'd be much more sympathetic (or at least less likely to kill you and leave you in an alley give you a withering stare) to your collective cause if you didn't dole out paper cuts with those political flyers of yours. Or at least took a shower.
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| on pancakes (civ. journal: diana villiers.) |
[01 May 2008|10:08pm] |
Return to the former U. S. of A. was uneventful. Though I'm afraid that jet lag and I are now intimate friends. Intimate in the least lovely way possible. Rather like the one night stand that won't go home and insists on making breakfast.
Speaking of. Pancakes. Anyone know where I might find some?
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| on surrealism. (civ: diana villiers) |
[29 Apr 2008|05:54pm] |
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Art buffs out there? Thoughts on Max Ernst.
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