Its like this awkward thing. And it really hurts. It stops me from being as mobile as I'd like and to be honest, its my own fault.
I am, of course, referring to a broken foot.
3rd Metatarsal, broken.
2nd Metatarsal, dislocated.
Apparently near impossible to re-set into position again. So I'm striding(read: hobbling slowly) from place to place in massive amounts of pain but with 3 entire days off.
The doctor said I'm not allowed to work on it for a few days, so I'm sorted for some time off to get some things done. For a change.
OH NO!
Its just dawned on me that I may not be able to fully Muse out on the 16th because I've the standing ticket and the complete lack of standing ability.
Shit.
Shit.
Shit.
Fuck it. I'll get doped up to the point of passing the pain barrier and wake up in the morning to pass out. Sorted.
Painkillers are quality, by the way. I'm well happy right now. I could just hug everyone. Its like taking ecstasy but with Nurofen instead.
Yes indeed.
Oh, and V needs to get herself across here for a gig. She needs some Pitchshifter. SHE NEEDS TO COME TO LONDONDONDONDONDONDON.
Wednesday 6 June 2007
Sunday 3 June 2007
Is salad cooked or prepared if some aspects are hot?
I'm only asking because I've just made a salad with some chicken. And damn fine it was too.
Good fresh ingredients are the key, obviously, so I ensured that I didn't have any by being a lazy bastard and buying them yesterday and then buggering off to the pub.
So I made it this afternoon for 2 people who have almost 0 vegetation in their diet, and they've both eaten it. This is a miracle on a par with the blind man seeing, the lame man walk and getting a duck to say "I am a goat"
Fear my powers.
I was initially worried that the chicken would be dry because of the way I made it, but it was fine. A shade tougher than I'd have preferred on the outer edges but it was still very very edible. In for about 3 minutes too long, probably.
I want to learn to cook duck and other game birds, just for the ability to say things like "This duck has not been seared as I'd have done it" or something and I want to cook posh food with oranges in it and stuff.
This is unlikely.
Oh, and I should be moving out of my current abode within the foreseeable. Yay for me.
Salad could have done with a few more radishes though.
Good fresh ingredients are the key, obviously, so I ensured that I didn't have any by being a lazy bastard and buying them yesterday and then buggering off to the pub.
So I made it this afternoon for 2 people who have almost 0 vegetation in their diet, and they've both eaten it. This is a miracle on a par with the blind man seeing, the lame man walk and getting a duck to say "I am a goat"
Fear my powers.
I was initially worried that the chicken would be dry because of the way I made it, but it was fine. A shade tougher than I'd have preferred on the outer edges but it was still very very edible. In for about 3 minutes too long, probably.
I want to learn to cook duck and other game birds, just for the ability to say things like "This duck has not been seared as I'd have done it" or something and I want to cook posh food with oranges in it and stuff.
This is unlikely.
Oh, and I should be moving out of my current abode within the foreseeable. Yay for me.
Salad could have done with a few more radishes though.
Saturday 2 June 2007
This holiday is going to be well buff
As I may or may not have mentioned(I forget if I have or not) I'm off to Hastings for a few days at the end of this month.
Today, I bought my crappy luggage for it. And now I am well and truly geared for it. Lazy days by the sea, active nights at the pub or maybe the camp site. Depends entirely on how we all feel.
Harry, Vicki and Katie off doing family crap, and Charlotte, Poboi and myself entertaining ourselves in other manners. Though Pod reckons he's going to spend 5 days sitting in front of the TV. In his pants.
Ah well, me and Charlotte will have to do other things away from Pod and his overbearing scents.
Should be a laugh. Beach cricket sets will be bought. Yes indeed.
On the 16th of June, I shall be attending a fine event at the new Wembley Stadium in Middlesex. Home of the England national football team, and the first of two dates by one of the most exciting bands around in my time so far. Muse. I shall be going to the Saturday date with Daniela Y Rodriguez, The Streets and Dirty Pretty Things supporting. I'd have preferred the Sunday date, for Biffy Clyro are supporting Muse, but then again, never look a gift horse in the mouth. Muse tickets are like gold dust at times, so when I was offered a standing ticket to what may turn out to be THE event of the summer(no football is on, has to be music) I jumped at the chance.
Quality.
I've now ran out of bloggage for now. I'll think of something later.
Today, I bought my crappy luggage for it. And now I am well and truly geared for it. Lazy days by the sea, active nights at the pub or maybe the camp site. Depends entirely on how we all feel.
Harry, Vicki and Katie off doing family crap, and Charlotte, Poboi and myself entertaining ourselves in other manners. Though Pod reckons he's going to spend 5 days sitting in front of the TV. In his pants.
Ah well, me and Charlotte will have to do other things away from Pod and his overbearing scents.
Should be a laugh. Beach cricket sets will be bought. Yes indeed.
On the 16th of June, I shall be attending a fine event at the new Wembley Stadium in Middlesex. Home of the England national football team, and the first of two dates by one of the most exciting bands around in my time so far. Muse. I shall be going to the Saturday date with Daniela Y Rodriguez, The Streets and Dirty Pretty Things supporting. I'd have preferred the Sunday date, for Biffy Clyro are supporting Muse, but then again, never look a gift horse in the mouth. Muse tickets are like gold dust at times, so when I was offered a standing ticket to what may turn out to be THE event of the summer(no football is on, has to be music) I jumped at the chance.
Quality.
I've now ran out of bloggage for now. I'll think of something later.
Friday 1 June 2007
Staunch denial
In the last couple of days, I've been complimented on a fair few things.
Primarily, my work and how well I've picked it up and the skill and ease I'm apparently showing.
Fuck yes, means a pay rise that shit.
Then I was complimented by some friends from the Barbarian Lands to the North of Berwick on how well I appear to be doing(as well as one honourable mention from my friend Chelle who seems to think I'm pretty)
My good friend Podboi complimented me on my photography skillz. Now, its a hobby and nothing beyond, but god knows I'd love it to be a profession. I like taking pictures of scenery and still life's, but sometimes I look down from the balcony(its not as posh as it sounds, its a top floor flat) and I can capture the most amazing moments of human interaction on sunny days. One or two in the rain and at dusk and night times look pretty cool too. "London life as viewed from the 11th floor &trade". I might make that a working project.
DIGRESSION!
I must stop digressing from my points in this here blog, the first part of this sentence nicely linking me from one part to the last.
I was complimented on my writing by a fellow Blogger(I was informed it was "very good" if that's not compliment enough for you, you may no longer read my drivel. Away with thee!)
Now, my complimenter, and I'd like to say personal friend(she's watched me grow up, albeit from afar and intermittently), is a professional writer. Blog, newspaper articles and the like are her turf. As far as I know, you cannot move in the US for reading some of her work(or maybe its just the New Jersey internets) because it is plagiarised on a seemingly daily basis.
This is theft, and something not to be taken lightly, especially by someone with as much intelligence, beauty and a way with words as Deb.
And, this tends to mean that anything Deb says on T'internet™ is Gospel, and is due to be believed and obeyed to the letter.
I pwn at Bloggerage.
I pwn all.
Except Deb.
Primarily, my work and how well I've picked it up and the skill and ease I'm apparently showing.
Fuck yes, means a pay rise that shit.
Then I was complimented by some friends from the Barbarian Lands to the North of Berwick on how well I appear to be doing(as well as one honourable mention from my friend Chelle who seems to think I'm pretty)
My good friend Podboi complimented me on my photography skillz. Now, its a hobby and nothing beyond, but god knows I'd love it to be a profession. I like taking pictures of scenery and still life's, but sometimes I look down from the balcony(its not as posh as it sounds, its a top floor flat) and I can capture the most amazing moments of human interaction on sunny days. One or two in the rain and at dusk and night times look pretty cool too. "London life as viewed from the 11th floor &trade". I might make that a working project.
DIGRESSION!
I must stop digressing from my points in this here blog, the first part of this sentence nicely linking me from one part to the last.
I was complimented on my writing by a fellow Blogger(I was informed it was "very good" if that's not compliment enough for you, you may no longer read my drivel. Away with thee!)
Now, my complimenter, and I'd like to say personal friend(she's watched me grow up, albeit from afar and intermittently), is a professional writer. Blog, newspaper articles and the like are her turf. As far as I know, you cannot move in the US for reading some of her work(or maybe its just the New Jersey internets) because it is plagiarised on a seemingly daily basis.
This is theft, and something not to be taken lightly, especially by someone with as much intelligence, beauty and a way with words as Deb.
And, this tends to mean that anything Deb says on T'internet™ is Gospel, and is due to be believed and obeyed to the letter.
I pwn at Bloggerage.
I pwn all.
Except Deb.
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