I love it when you speak space cornish.

[hirez]

Yet more people telling me that they read this thing but don't understand the half of it. As if it were my problem.

Life's hard when you're a guerilla ontologist. Which is, I don't know, putting a name to something that's just normal. In that I can and do say please and thank you and get invited to weddings and served lager in normal pubs where they have football, but sooner or later the mask will slip and I'll say something or think out of turn and then they're all staring at me like stuffed owls. Even in bloody metal pubs where you might think that a certain lack of conformism might be tolerated after several pints.

I react badly to being told that my weltanschauung is in error, it seems. I have a fine collection of blank stares, mostly from women. Shame, that. (Hm. Find the reference, free the pointer, reclaim the memory-space for something more useful, I think.)

We also find you Nocturnal Emissions.

This weekend featured trouser-repair and waiting for things to turn up in the post.

Comments

[janinemarriott.livejournal.com]

Glad it wasn't mainly about my gentle teasing re the tshirts that make people girlie. I was worried cos my choice of words was poor. If you ever need help with the sarcasm employing, I'm your girl. I lean towards it more easily than I should! Ah yes moany dull band tshirts would work. Can I therefore throw coldplay into the mix?

[hirez.livejournal.com]

See comment to sushidog which maybe covers about half of what I was attempting to get at.

Please, throw Coldplay into the mixer. A cement one for preference.