Friday, January 24, 2003
'Rose tint my world...'
You've heard me rave about all things turquoise. Real-life associates will know my other pigment passion is PINK. There's no getting away from it - pink is a powerful colour. Yesterday I had to be suited and booted for a work meeting, in navy suit and black boots. Today I'm back in my pink suede Kickers and have happy feet!
'Isn't she pretty in pink?'
I've just changed my PC's desktop to a hot pink colour scheme - I now have pink Word, pink Eudora...pink Excel is a joy to behold! And it's all complemented beautifully with wallpaper of a turquoise 62 Cadillac Coupe, a looooong shiny beast with big sexy fins...mmmmmm. I feel better already.
'Pink: it's like red but not quite...'
I'll leave you with the words of mother-of-the-bride M'Lynn in Steel Magnolias , in despair at the pink and pink decorations at her daughter's wedding:
'The sanctuary looks like it's been hosed down with Pepto Bismol.'
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You've heard me rave about all things turquoise. Real-life associates will know my other pigment passion is PINK. There's no getting away from it - pink is a powerful colour. Yesterday I had to be suited and booted for a work meeting, in navy suit and black boots. Today I'm back in my pink suede Kickers and have happy feet!
'Isn't she pretty in pink?'
I've just changed my PC's desktop to a hot pink colour scheme - I now have pink Word, pink Eudora...pink Excel is a joy to behold! And it's all complemented beautifully with wallpaper of a turquoise 62 Cadillac Coupe, a looooong shiny beast with big sexy fins...mmmmmm. I feel better already.
'Pink: it's like red but not quite...'
I'll leave you with the words of mother-of-the-bride M'Lynn in Steel Magnolias , in despair at the pink and pink decorations at her daughter's wedding:
'The sanctuary looks like it's been hosed down with Pepto Bismol.'
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Wednesday, January 22, 2003
Following on from watching Bremner, Bird and Fortune's excellent Between Iraq and a Hard Place on Monday, this cheery and apposite song (to be sung to the tune of If You're Happy And You Know It) arrived in my inbox this morning:
'If you cannot find Osama, bomb Iraq.
If the markets are a drama, bomb Iraq.
If the terrorists are frisky,
Pakistan is looking shifty,
North Korea is too risky,
Bomb Iraq.
If we have no allies with us, bomb Iraq.
If we think someone has dissed us, bomb Iraq.
So to hell with the inspections,
Let's look tough for the elections,
Close your mind and take directions,
Bomb Iraq.
It's "pre-emptive non-aggression", bomb Iraq.
Let's prevent this mass destruction, bomb Iraq.
They've got weapons we can't see,
And that's good enough for me
'Cos it's all the proof I need
Bomb Iraq.
If you never were elected, bomb Iraq.
If your mood is quite dejected, bomb Iraq.
If you think Saddam's gone mad,
With the weapons that he had,
(And he tried to kill your dad),
Bomb Iraq.
If your corporate fraud is growin', bomb Iraq.
If your ties to it are showin', bomb Iraq.
If your politics are sleazy,
And hiding that ain't easy,
And your manhood's getting queasy,
Bomb Iraq.
Fall in line and follow orders, bomb Iraq.
For our might knows not our borders, bomb Iraq.
Disagree? We'll call it treason,
Let's make war not love this season,
Even if we have no reason,
Bomb Iraq.'
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'If you cannot find Osama, bomb Iraq.
If the markets are a drama, bomb Iraq.
If the terrorists are frisky,
Pakistan is looking shifty,
North Korea is too risky,
Bomb Iraq.
If we have no allies with us, bomb Iraq.
If we think someone has dissed us, bomb Iraq.
So to hell with the inspections,
Let's look tough for the elections,
Close your mind and take directions,
Bomb Iraq.
It's "pre-emptive non-aggression", bomb Iraq.
Let's prevent this mass destruction, bomb Iraq.
They've got weapons we can't see,
And that's good enough for me
'Cos it's all the proof I need
Bomb Iraq.
If you never were elected, bomb Iraq.
If your mood is quite dejected, bomb Iraq.
If you think Saddam's gone mad,
With the weapons that he had,
(And he tried to kill your dad),
Bomb Iraq.
If your corporate fraud is growin', bomb Iraq.
If your ties to it are showin', bomb Iraq.
If your politics are sleazy,
And hiding that ain't easy,
And your manhood's getting queasy,
Bomb Iraq.
Fall in line and follow orders, bomb Iraq.
For our might knows not our borders, bomb Iraq.
Disagree? We'll call it treason,
Let's make war not love this season,
Even if we have no reason,
Bomb Iraq.'
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Wednesday, January 15, 2003
This just in from a friend just starting six months in Finland:
'It's quite cold here. The newspaper has a picture of a Latvian sea captain standing on the Baltic Sea next to his ship. ON the Baltic Sea. NEXT TO his ship.'
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'It's quite cold here. The newspaper has a picture of a Latvian sea captain standing on the Baltic Sea next to his ship. ON the Baltic Sea. NEXT TO his ship.'
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Friday, January 10, 2003
'Then sings my soul, my Saviour God, to thee
How great thou art! How great thou art!
'Then sings my soul, my Saviour God, to thee
How great thou art! How great thou art!'
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How great thou art! How great thou art!
'Then sings my soul, my Saviour God, to thee
How great thou art! How great thou art!'
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Friday, January 03, 2003
Another fantastic Thing Mil Millington's girlfriend and he have argued about:
"Robbie Williams is a singer. Formerly a member of Take That, since he left he has divided his time fairly equally between music and rehab. I mention this because I believe he hasn't 'broken' America (Bloke: 'So - did you break America?' Second Bloke: 'No, it was like this when I got here.') and so the vast number of idlers from that country present here might not know who I'm talking about otherwise. For, you see, Margret has 'A Thing' for Robbie Williams. No problem with that, of course. I quite like Robbie Williams and, anyway, as someone who still hopes that one day he'll have the opportunity to roll about covered in Corr sisters I'm hardly in a position to criticise. What causes the sucking of teeth and drumming of fingers is that, while she tuts and sneers at the scruffiness of my base desires, she dresses hers up in finery. If we're watching a movie with Gina Gershon in it, she'll constantly be peering at me, asking me 'What are you doing with your hand?', etc. Yet I get told to pack it in if, when Robbie Williams is on TV, I examine the dopey grin stuck immovably onto her face. The limit, however, is reached by her denial that she fancies Robbie Williams. This is what she said; "Tch - I don't fancy him. Yes, he is good looking and sexy and funny and has lots of charisma. I'd like to meet him - spend time with him and really get to know him, find out what he's like, what he feels and thinks. But I don't fancy him.' Splendid. I'd like Neve Campbell to surprise me in the shower; our wet, naked bodies sliding and pumping against each other as we become dizzy and breathless, lost in desire. But I don't want to have sex with her. OK?
(If you're reading this, Ms Campbell, I was just making a rhetorical point. Actually I want to have sex with you quite badly. And, Mr Williams, in exchange, I'm quite prepared to let Margret follow you about constantly asking 'What are you thinking?' Fair's fair.)"
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"Robbie Williams is a singer. Formerly a member of Take That, since he left he has divided his time fairly equally between music and rehab. I mention this because I believe he hasn't 'broken' America (Bloke: 'So - did you break America?' Second Bloke: 'No, it was like this when I got here.') and so the vast number of idlers from that country present here might not know who I'm talking about otherwise. For, you see, Margret has 'A Thing' for Robbie Williams. No problem with that, of course. I quite like Robbie Williams and, anyway, as someone who still hopes that one day he'll have the opportunity to roll about covered in Corr sisters I'm hardly in a position to criticise. What causes the sucking of teeth and drumming of fingers is that, while she tuts and sneers at the scruffiness of my base desires, she dresses hers up in finery. If we're watching a movie with Gina Gershon in it, she'll constantly be peering at me, asking me 'What are you doing with your hand?', etc. Yet I get told to pack it in if, when Robbie Williams is on TV, I examine the dopey grin stuck immovably onto her face. The limit, however, is reached by her denial that she fancies Robbie Williams. This is what she said; "Tch - I don't fancy him. Yes, he is good looking and sexy and funny and has lots of charisma. I'd like to meet him - spend time with him and really get to know him, find out what he's like, what he feels and thinks. But I don't fancy him.' Splendid. I'd like Neve Campbell to surprise me in the shower; our wet, naked bodies sliding and pumping against each other as we become dizzy and breathless, lost in desire. But I don't want to have sex with her. OK?
(If you're reading this, Ms Campbell, I was just making a rhetorical point. Actually I want to have sex with you quite badly. And, Mr Williams, in exchange, I'm quite prepared to let Margret follow you about constantly asking 'What are you thinking?' Fair's fair.)"
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