September 4 (Saturday): Blah. Despite not getting to sleep until 2 AM, I still manage to wake up at 7 AM. I hate my body clock. Early on MSN beeps and it is Greg Kitten of all people saying “hi�. Then Dad begins to chat on MSN and this morning it begins to prove a real nuisance. Eventually I get let out and am able to do the paper run. This morning I can’t be bothered to pay for all three newspapers so I slip The Sun and the Daily Star inside The Guardian and just pay for The Guardian because I feel like it. I pop into town and buy DVDs because I appear to have an addiction to it. I am currently on an oriental kick (for obvious reasons) and I buy Spirited Away (on Phoebe’s recommendation) and Akira (just because).
When I get back, soon I have B hitting me on MSN again. We begin chatting around 12.30 and don’t finish until around 4.30, it’s a good innings/session. She hooks up a webcam to her MSN and gets me to upgrade my copy of Messenger and about 45 minutes later there I am watching her over the internet. It is mind-blowing and fantastic. And B looks awesome, still so pretty. I get a real kick out of seeing her reaction everytime I make a funny and I genuinely make her laugh and smile. Her attention is good enough to stop me from watching Northern Ireland v Poland on TV. Right or wrongly, it feels like there is a spark there as before. The session goes a bit pear shaped when she attempts to make our conversation a three-way, bringing in some codger from London. No fun.
The main plan for today is to go see Dodgeball and arrangements get made so that me, Ben, Chris and Sofie go see the early evening showing (although no one actually bothers to pre-book tickets). I pick Ben up and head to Chris’ where things are lethargic as fuck while time is cutting fine, personally I feel we really should be getting moving instead of sitting on our arses drinking beer. Nevermind. And then when we finally get moving Sofie disappears, down the road to pick flowers. What’s going on?
Despite my flapping, we get to the film in time and get tickets easy. I would be red faced about this had I not internalised it anyway. We take our seats, next to a couple of pissheads (ha ha, Chris gets to be the lucky to sit next to them) and get to see the mandatory old duffer trip up on the steps and drop all her popcorn. I know its wrong to laugh but why else would they call it a pratfall?
The trailer watch features Anchorman not looking all that good, Collateral sounding/looking awesome due to its usage of a great Alice In Chains song during the trailer and the clip for Alien Vs Predator makes it look the greatest movie ever made. Once we are through those messages, Dodgeball actually turns out to be kind of disappointing. Its not that it is bad, it’s just that it is not really good either, the film can just be described with/in the term “it’s all right� and that’s about it. Vince Vaughan as usual is likeable, even if he has really let himself go, Ben Stiller is stupid and over the top but that is what he does and Rip Torn is his usual gruff self. And that’s about it sadly. Then again Old School bored the tits off me last time I watched it.
We emerge from the cinema and England have only just managed a 2-2 draw in Austria. All early reports blame errors on the part of David James and, with the benefit of hindsight; it is pretty obvious that someone at the Football Association has asked him to literally take to a dive with view to making life slightly sticky for Sven-Goran Erection. Bung.
After the film, it is time for the big hoo ha that is Chris introducing Sofie to Lucy and all the other Hole hags, something that has been turned into a really nauseating ceremony by now. By this prospect, Sofie is rather nervous to say the least and you can hardly blame the poor cow. At this point however Ben ditches us, resigning/relegating me to the position of gooseberry (oh great, that three person dynamic yet again). I desperately try to call Mark out to even up numbers but he has been up to London today, to the Tate Modern and the last day of the Edward Hopper exhibition. (stage of date 1 with Phoebe, ah good times). The three of us go to the Playhouse and I really don’t want to be there but for some reason I really feel obliged to show my face and do my part for the team. Why? The three of us sit downs for drinks (me Coke, off the booze just when I need it most) and the conversation is flat (not least from me). Quickly I become the spare wheel as Chris and Sofie go into their usual/general/OTT PDAs, which always is a recipe for awkwardness. This does however get noticed and I soon I am brought back into conversation but I just feel too alien tonight to fully participate with whole heart and I only flounder. Things however take a real dip when Sofie begins telling me where I am going wrong with girls/ladies/women and kind of accuses me of trying to manipulate the ones I try it on with. No, that’s game (which I am obviously not too hot on). It actually really fucking pisses me off that someone I have only ever spoken to twice, is telling me so much about me. The night seems to end for me here, mood ahoy.
We leave the Playhouse and head to the Hole In The Wall but I drop out at this point, very pissed off. Hungry, I speed to the kebab shop on North Station Road and get a good one, gobbling it up very quickly once I get home. When I get in, Bella is STILL on the fucking internet and I talk to her for a bit but ditch her to watch the John Travolta Scientology movie (Battlefield Earth?) on TV, which I only have on DVD anyways (does this make me a Scientologist? I definitely would be if I could afford it).
np: Enon – Leave It To Rust
When I get back, soon I have B hitting me on MSN again. We begin chatting around 12.30 and don’t finish until around 4.30, it’s a good innings/session. She hooks up a webcam to her MSN and gets me to upgrade my copy of Messenger and about 45 minutes later there I am watching her over the internet. It is mind-blowing and fantastic. And B looks awesome, still so pretty. I get a real kick out of seeing her reaction everytime I make a funny and I genuinely make her laugh and smile. Her attention is good enough to stop me from watching Northern Ireland v Poland on TV. Right or wrongly, it feels like there is a spark there as before. The session goes a bit pear shaped when she attempts to make our conversation a three-way, bringing in some codger from London. No fun.
The main plan for today is to go see Dodgeball and arrangements get made so that me, Ben, Chris and Sofie go see the early evening showing (although no one actually bothers to pre-book tickets). I pick Ben up and head to Chris’ where things are lethargic as fuck while time is cutting fine, personally I feel we really should be getting moving instead of sitting on our arses drinking beer. Nevermind. And then when we finally get moving Sofie disappears, down the road to pick flowers. What’s going on?
Despite my flapping, we get to the film in time and get tickets easy. I would be red faced about this had I not internalised it anyway. We take our seats, next to a couple of pissheads (ha ha, Chris gets to be the lucky to sit next to them) and get to see the mandatory old duffer trip up on the steps and drop all her popcorn. I know its wrong to laugh but why else would they call it a pratfall?
The trailer watch features Anchorman not looking all that good, Collateral sounding/looking awesome due to its usage of a great Alice In Chains song during the trailer and the clip for Alien Vs Predator makes it look the greatest movie ever made. Once we are through those messages, Dodgeball actually turns out to be kind of disappointing. Its not that it is bad, it’s just that it is not really good either, the film can just be described with/in the term “it’s all right� and that’s about it. Vince Vaughan as usual is likeable, even if he has really let himself go, Ben Stiller is stupid and over the top but that is what he does and Rip Torn is his usual gruff self. And that’s about it sadly. Then again Old School bored the tits off me last time I watched it.
We emerge from the cinema and England have only just managed a 2-2 draw in Austria. All early reports blame errors on the part of David James and, with the benefit of hindsight; it is pretty obvious that someone at the Football Association has asked him to literally take to a dive with view to making life slightly sticky for Sven-Goran Erection. Bung.
After the film, it is time for the big hoo ha that is Chris introducing Sofie to Lucy and all the other Hole hags, something that has been turned into a really nauseating ceremony by now. By this prospect, Sofie is rather nervous to say the least and you can hardly blame the poor cow. At this point however Ben ditches us, resigning/relegating me to the position of gooseberry (oh great, that three person dynamic yet again). I desperately try to call Mark out to even up numbers but he has been up to London today, to the Tate Modern and the last day of the Edward Hopper exhibition. (stage of date 1 with Phoebe, ah good times). The three of us go to the Playhouse and I really don’t want to be there but for some reason I really feel obliged to show my face and do my part for the team. Why? The three of us sit downs for drinks (me Coke, off the booze just when I need it most) and the conversation is flat (not least from me). Quickly I become the spare wheel as Chris and Sofie go into their usual/general/OTT PDAs, which always is a recipe for awkwardness. This does however get noticed and I soon I am brought back into conversation but I just feel too alien tonight to fully participate with whole heart and I only flounder. Things however take a real dip when Sofie begins telling me where I am going wrong with girls/ladies/women and kind of accuses me of trying to manipulate the ones I try it on with. No, that’s game (which I am obviously not too hot on). It actually really fucking pisses me off that someone I have only ever spoken to twice, is telling me so much about me. The night seems to end for me here, mood ahoy.
We leave the Playhouse and head to the Hole In The Wall but I drop out at this point, very pissed off. Hungry, I speed to the kebab shop on North Station Road and get a good one, gobbling it up very quickly once I get home. When I get in, Bella is STILL on the fucking internet and I talk to her for a bit but ditch her to watch the John Travolta Scientology movie (Battlefield Earth?) on TV, which I only have on DVD anyways (does this make me a Scientologist? I definitely would be if I could afford it).
np: Enon – Leave It To Rust
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