Thanks to Hungarian neighbours for that.
(This whole trousers project isn't interesting me quite as much as I thought it would. Oh well.)
]]>Go and have your "meeting" outside. Preferably on the A9.
Stop breathing like that.
Jeeeeeeeeeeeesus. I need the internet at home.
]]>Fat boy: "Aye, you gave it to me, eh."
Lecturer: "And what d'you do with it, eat it?"
]]>Apparently, it's a sort of dialect of German. Thanks to the pair of Austrian tourists who were looking for the library for that one.
( - and just why is it, by the way, that I get stopped at least twice a week by foreigners trying to find somewhere? Is it just cos there's a lot of tourists about cos this is when they get their holidays, and I do spend a lot of time in the station/bus station part of town? Is it cos I'm usually alone and therefore approachable? Is it cos I'm a bit tatty-looking, and therefore approachable? Hmmmm.)
]]>BAW
BAG
Ye-es.
I should imagine you probably are.
]]>SUCK IT
"And how izzat funny, darlin'?"
he enquires in his smoked-out Central Belt rasp.
Oh Fraser. It just... Is.
]]>Thank you, Kaiser Chiefs, for that neat wee summary of undone college work, a home unprepared for winter, a probably-unfaithful partner and farrrrrr too much time spent -
]]>Courtesy of Painter Mannie fae work. (It strikes me that I maybe ought to be noting whether they're masculine or feminine nouns where applicable. But start that and I'll end up all bogged down in articles. Plus i cannae be arsed.)
]]>"... 'course, you cannae get too pally wi' y'r bird's da', in case you have to give her the boot, eh?"
Dear God. I bet half the lesbians in construction were perfectly straight till they lugged in at college. Fuckit, where's me dungarees?
]]>Now, I've got two pronunciations for this one - Site Agent fae work assures me it's brekk-eesh, and he's a native speaker so he ought to know. But wee Whats'is-name fae college reckons it's breek-eesh, and he's from Skye where they've actually got an Upper Breakish and a Lower Breakish (make of that what you will), so he really ought to know too. Anyone..?
]]>I can feel my brain and body dulling daily; wee bits of joy, energy and suchlike closing down. My barful of happy, easy, wandering flotsam have dissipated, the big hazy welcome distilled to three grotty alkies in a caravan.
So!
I have decided to combat the descending gloom. With trousers.
The plan is, whenever I meet a native speaker of another language, I shall ask them how to say "trousers" in their native tongue, then post my findings. Spellings and phoenetics. Good, eh? Feel free to join in...
]]>Take that, you ignorant, trumpeting, library-infesting bastards!!!
*smirk*
]]>That's my 10-minute warning from the friendly librarian so best be off. I'm going to buy sausages and orange juice and the papers, and lounge over hangover breakfast for the remainder of the afternoon. Ahhhhh, it's a good old life so it is.
]]>"Right, okay, bye then," muttered a pissed and sheepish Green-eyed Fisherman.
Gosh. Fancy that.
]]>The keyboard stopped working on Sunday night. Probably something to do with the cat sitting on it. I phoned my wonderful friend Martin tonight and he talked me through fixing it, and I am extreeeeeeeeeemely happy (and a bit tipsy). I'm going to bed with my book and a cheese toastie. Big smiley goodnight hugs!
]]>Position of Maintenance Operative
We refer to your application received at the office today, 9 May 2007.
We regret to advise that since the closing date for applications was 30 March 2007, the position has been filled.
We thank you for your interest in CFPA and wish you every success in obtaining appropriate employment.
Yours sincerely
etc.
(They didn't specify what they considered to be "appropriate employment" for somebody such as myself. I wonder...)
Okay. I reeeeeeeeeally am going to do some filing now...
]]>Dog-eared and coffee stained,
last July's Ullapool News.
I mind reading it in the beer garden, waiting for the bus
the very first time I visited you.
It spent most of the summer in my rucksack;
came with us parting and camping and guerilla-gardening
and lying on the beach in each other's arms, feeling the summer,
grinning, smug as hell.
I circled all the building firms,
phoned 'em up looking for a job -
labouring; deskwork; any-bloody-thing they'd give me,
just to be near you.
And now... well, it's all changed
My life's here now
And suddenly I'm not too sure about you, but what to do
With last July's Ullapool News?
Fuckit.
Chuckit.
In the bucket
- every single one of Estranged husband's bank statements for 2005-6?
- a receipt for a tub of bio-yoghurt from Tesco, totalling 59 pence?
- an Oor Wullie annual nestling in my "apprenticeship hunt" folder?
No wonder my mind is so untidy.
Onwards!
]]>Once I've done it, it will be done (and I'll be able to proceed to the next feat of organisation, oh lucky me!!!) If I just start, before I know it I'll be halfway through (not curled up on the bedroom floor chewing my face and emitting animal-noise, oh no!). Ohhhhhhh FUCK I hate being a grown-up sometimes!!!
]]>5. What is your hairy doing today?
8. Have you ever had a black and white minstrel?
10. Do you know anyone who lives in Wymondham who is be straight?
17. Last time you went to smoke Six Fags?
18. Do you have any toiletry paper in your house?
23. Last time you had someone cork for you?
28. Do you pick nose guitar?
42. What is the last thing you stuffed?
43. Did you ever drink Pepsi and Meths?
48. Last time you farted under a carpet?
49.do you have a black thing?
Can anybody pleeeeeeeeeease enlighten me as to how one goes about farting under a carpet..?
]]>