When good and bad collide.

Oops. I just had a mad ebay moment and bought a 6mp Panasonic SLR camera with a Leica lens included, with a free 2GB SD card (worth £119 alone) for £181.


<--- My shiny new bitchin' camera. It could eat your dog. And enjoy it with a chilled Sancerre.


Considering this was all worth £500, and it was brand new from an ebay shop, this was a very good thing.

On the other hand, that pessimistic side of me that I don't often listen to nowadays, it has left me with damn near nothing in my account for two weeks. This is a very bad thing.

Then again, I have a £100 overdraft, so I can use it if I'm desperate, like for my haircut and dye on Thursday. This is a good thing.

I'm turning into my dad and this post is becoming very predictable. BAD thing.

Reasons Why I Should Have Stayed in Bed Today (Episode one of many)

It's just like the MINT Card advert says..."When one good thing happens, a stupid thing happens to balance it out."

Well, my lovely nana heard of my computer plight, and being what she is (kind and wealthy) she offered to buy me the bits to make a new PC. So off we went shopping, bought all the internal bits (I bought the case, keyboard, mouse and speakers) such as the processor (AMD Athlon X2 dual processor BITCHMEISTER 12 BILLION.) et cetera, et cetera.

So now it's all in bits (albeit, BITCHMEISTER bits) and dad has to build it. So that was good.

Work today balanced all that out.

"Reasons why I should have stayed in bed today (episode one.)"

1. My boss has chucked all my leaflets for Financial Services in the bin.

2. My plastic leaflet holders have gone AWOL.

3. When making a tannoy announcement today, instead of rounding it off with my usual 'Thank you.', I said, and don't ask me why I did, 'BYE BYE!' With the chirpy voice and everything. Not just 'Bye.' No, that wouldn't have been humiliating enough. No, I had to say 'BYE BYE!' like a two year old. A prize for anyone who can explain to me why this occured, without using words or phrases including anything along the lines of 'a little bit special'.

5. I just forgot to write the number four. And now I realise there's actually a numbered bullet-point option on this damned thing. Oh well, I may as well carry on.

6. It was Burns' Day today, and I was dressed like an extra from 'High Road'. Also had to walk around the store in a 'procession' with about five other people, a haggis and a piper. I'm not even that Scottish.

7. 'Haggis Surprise', 'Classic Haggis, Neeps and Tatties', Haggis Pizza, Vegetarian Haggis (which had turnip in it, and was served with turnip.) and 'Chicken Balmoral' (chicken stuffed with.... *drumroll* Haggis!) were on the menu in the canteen today.

8. I walked down the stairs after having swiped out, actually thought to myself 'I bet I miss the last step, I'm not paying attention to the situation in hand.', then promptly missed the goddamned step and nearly headbutted the wall.

England, will you please take me in?

Aunt Irma comes to stay...

And Aunt Irma makes me a very angry lady.

Okay; she's not a real person. 'Aunt Irma' is a pseudonym for one's 'time of the month'. She makes me irrational; though most of my livid ramblings have had some sort of point and purpose behind them... the new graphics card I purchased yesterday at a 'marked down bargain' price of £89.99 is too fast for my PC, so most of the morning was spent screaming obsanities at the BIOS. After hours of aformentioned screaming and tinkering the computer is thankfully now not plaguing me with the Blue Screen Of Death, but instead going at a dead snail's pace.

Which undoubtedly will come in handy while I'm trying to scrape a portfolio together.

My first interview is on the 20th of February; and I have nothing done. The convention documentary is not editing together very quickly...

And the box for the graphics card snapped the nail right off my right index finger. My perfectly manicured nail I spent AGES growing and...manicuring.

THE BLOODY BASTARD.

The Next Jeneration.

Well, that's me. My UCAS application is away...with y'know, the fairies or however the interweb gets things from one place to another these days. I even went the full shahbang and filled in my Core Skills.

SQA: "Can you talk?"
4th Year Me: "Yes. Very well, thank you."
SQA: "Here, have a core skill with a fancy name. 'Vocational Skill'."
4th Year Me: "Aye, Cool n' 'at. Ta."
SQA: "Aye, Nae bothur, but."

So much merriment was had in filling them in. My Numeracy skills are Int 2. Hehe! No surprise there.

SQA: "Ha! Yer shite, ya bawbag!"
Present Me: "Shut yer face, ya tit."
SQA: *mumble* "m'sorry."
Present Me: "PWND!"

When I read the reference Mr Walker (ye olde Guidance teacher) gave me, it actually filled me with a queer sense of fulfilment- I felt slightly proud of what I gained from what I affectionately call 'The SHITEHOLE.'

So, I now have 6 paths staring me in the face: Napier in Edinburgh, Caledonian in Glasgow, Paisley campus at Ayr, Stirling, Cumbria or Northumbria. All in media production.

Do I study in England? I think I might. It opens doors. But then, monetary issues might blight my plans. SAAS won't help me in England. Or will it? I should really start paying attention to things... for fear of doing 'a Pocahontas' and singing about dreams about paths to trees and otters, I think I might read up on it.

Oh, and can anyone shed any light on how one could possibly snag a job as a runner?

First Flight Fright Night...

And now I'm getting nervous.

I've never been on a plane before (I know, I know - "how did you get anywhere, then?" Fact is, I didn't.) and for the first time at 7am tomorrow I will be sitting on that tonka toy gritting my teeth through the turbulence caused by the 90mph winds we're currently enjoying. I mean, I'm not fantastic that early in the morning as it is, but yeah, just chuck in a first-time experience in there.

Time to bite the bullet.

And think; this time tomorrow I'll be schmoozing with fellow Green Wing fans and the writers.

Aaaaannnnnnnd breathe.

Bugs of the Week...

Well, ants. Ants are quite cool. But that's not the type of bugs I'm on about.

What has been 'bugging' (apt.) me this week is 'I'm an Obsolete Figment of your Memory from the Past and I have since gone mad, mad from the heady days of my celebrity of hence. Please watch me do fuck all for weeks on end and eat bugs in the jungle and Then, if you'd be so kind Get Me Out Of Here so I can marry a "co-star" and dominate the tabloid press and then cover a Disney song.' Then press your red button.

"REALITY TV KILLED THE SITCOM STAR."

Which it undoubtedly did. No channel wants to fund any sitcoms anymore because they're already guaranteed money from audiences who, under no uncertainty, WILL watch Big Brother and all it's sister shows on E4, More4, E4+1, B4+72, 4play, Cam4, G4, 4Teen...

And Reality involves the absolute minimum of work; no writers etc.. so they cost less to make but bring in heaps more money. Which is why great shows like Green Wing are dwarved viewing-figure-wise and subsequently dropped because, like Channel 4 said; "Not pulling enough and are not worth in making further series."

So, I have to say I feel that anyone who watches any of that mince is a hypocrite to call themselves a serious fan of any sitcom. And the people who want more than one series "really badly" and still 'switch over to ITV2' or 'press the red button' are even worse.

It's always going to be that way; a great show comes along and it'll last a series. If that.

And it's because of you idiots watching the shite. You sold out, and now you're condemning us to a future of lazy, monotonous, money-hungry, 'interactive', manipulating, bully-culture tripe.

Soon there won't be any actors or anyone for you to 'admire' for tv, let alone writers...

Think about it, viewing public. Yes, that's you.

What sparked me off on this rant was a sort of throwaway comment in a certain women's magazine (More) which happened to be sitting in the bathroom at the time of my visit.

The Nation's 'much-loved' reject of that 'parasite of sanity', 'Big Brother' - Nikki (of shagging the winner with that inane stutter fame) has her own column. I figured I'd read it because it was there and I knew I'd get something out of it to rant about.

The Column read thusly:

"I'm sick of people slagging off Jordan. She's a great mum, wife and role model. I hope her and lovely Peter are together forever and have lots more gorgeous babies. If I had half the success of Jordan I'd be over the moon - she's my idol."

Nikki: Essex-Based Confucius.
Now. I see many problems with above commentage. Firstly; this is coming from the girl who dominated the tabloids for a good few months of our lives, wearing things like bunny girl costumes and whining and whinging like a fucking petulant, spoiled child. Lets get this straight; I do not like this girl. I would like to stick drawing pins in her pupils. Christ, she'd make me want to stick pins in my own eyes and drink camel piss if I didn't have such a feeling of self worth and intelligence when I look at her.

Anyway, back to her comments; lets start from the beginning and take it apart, bit by bit.

"She's a great mum, wife and role model." - Words fucking fail me. Jordan's an obsessive for plastic surgery and wants MORE to make herself 'feel better'. She's got her tits out all over the shop. She met her husband in the jungle on 'I'm a Twat, Love Me, Britain!' Her children are by Dwight Yorke and Peter Andre. I'll go to hell if I say anymore on that account. But I will say this; one of them looks like a gorilla. That is, the children. Not...well. I see your point.

"I hope her and lovely Peter are together forever and have lots more gorgeous babies." - Firstly; 'Lovely Peter' is not the phrase I instantly adhere to Andre's image. 'Fucking annoying Peter with more pecs than Brain Cells' is probably more apt. And 'Gorgeous Babies'?! Well - she did fall in 'reality tv luff' with the punk-wannabe-and-offensively-unpleasant-on-the-eyes tourette's sufferer.* I suppose gorillas are cute to some folk.

"If I had half the success of Jordan I'd be over the moon." - You mean, if you had half her cup size? That seems to be her fame. All in one wonderbra.


*Not that I'm shallow. He's a fucking idiot aswell.

(And yes, I thought I needed a re-vamp, so moved this vitriol over here. Well - I don't want to delete it, do I?)