Sorting stuff out

I've started storting stuff out. Getting rid of things I don't want to keep, putting photos into albums, making a catalogue over my wine collection, that sort of things. I'm not really sure what has triggered this obsessive sorting, although I suspect it's got something to do with not wanting to leave too much of a mess should I happen to die. I'm a morbid person, I can't help it.

Have you ever kissed a girl?

It's the same thing every year, or so I've learnt. The first year I was absolutely gobsmacked at the incredible number of either very fat or very skinny teenage boys with bad skin that all of a sudden seemed to have hijacked my local supermarket. And they were all buying loads and loads of Coca cola, Red Bull and crisps. As I expressed this curious sight to someone, this someone (who have more insight into worldy matters than I, it would appear) explained to me that this weekend is "Dream-hack" weekend. I politely said "pardon?", and got the explanation that it's an event that attracts computer geeks from all over the country and for a few blissfull days they retire from their bedrooms to join this mass gathering. Now I've learnt to recognise the phenomenon. As soon as every pizza place within a square mile is crowded by boys in what looks like very comfy but disastrously unstylish trousers, it's Dream-hack. Or as soon as a boy in early puberty looks at you going "Uuuuh, d'ye know if there's a pizza place anywhere near" and then is incapable of following your instructions to the nearest pizza place, it's Dream-hack. I hate them. They're ugly, they get in the way, they're rude and smelly, and all I want to do is to walk up to them and ask "so... you've ever kissed a girl?".

A Headache in Hell!

Right. I woke up with the headache from hell today. I was feeling absolutely shit (compared to relatively so, like what that stuff in the toilet must feel like). I was trying to go about my daily doings as well as I possibly could, but by late lunchtime I surrendered and curled up on the sofa under a blanket, ear plugs in my (*drumroll*) ears. And as I was contemplating life and the universe and everything, as you do when you're trying to ignore the pounding in your head that just has to be a brain tumour, I started thinking of hell. Something along the lines of how hell might just possibly mean curling up under a blanket on a sofa, et cetera. And then I thought, "well, if this is what hell is like, there's a chance you might actually get used to it after a while". And as if the devil was spying on me and deciding that "no way, I'll teach you what bloody hell is about, you twit", the headache got even worse. And then worse. And then suddenly slightly better. Now it's just like a normal headache again, so I decided to pick up where I left up this lunchtime.

Oh, and did I mention I'm out of aspirins?

The Wonder of You...

I fecking LOVE Elvis Presley. It's me and my grandmother. We've got two things in common. Our love of Elvis and our love of James Dean. It's something about the 50's I guess.

Anyroads... It's Friday again, which doesn't really make me feel anything in particular. It's one thing when you're working and your life is made up by different stages of depression from Monday until Thursday only to be on an unhealthy high all Friday. But if you're not working, Friday is really just another day. Although today I've got big plans. They mainly consist of various cleaning and tidying type activities but still. Adopt, adapt and improve.