Twink

Sep. 11th, 2006 08:36 pm
jarsy: (Default)
How to describe Twink to the non-Irish amongst us? Well here's what Wikipedia has to say - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Adele_King

She's sort of like a less classy Martha Stewart, but with panto instead of cooking and jail. And way more b-list. But everyone knows who she is, and everyone under the age of fifty thinks she's a bit of a joke, and a bit of a cunt.

And now, apparently, an abusive message she left on her husband's voicemail has made its way on to the internet. And someone's made a dance mix of it. Joy!

I know I should have some ethical problem with this, but really it just feels like revenge for all the times she's shoehorned her life onto my tv and into my newspapers.

http://www.myspace.com/twink666

May contain some swearing.
jarsy: (Default)
That cliche about needing a holiday to get over your holiday is horrifyingly true.

Last Sunday we slept through our alarm, and only my panic upon waking up and checking the time whenever I'm going away, regardless of alarms, allowed us to catch our Sheffield to London bus on time. From central London we got a train out to my aunt's place, which is in a little village on the Thames. As it was Sunday, bloke got to see his first cricket match. It was lovely to be able to see my aunt and my cousin, as they've been having a rough time of it lately. The next day we trundled from there to the British Museum, where the day was spent in geek joy. We also managed to squeeze some shopping in, in preparation for France. We woke up at seven the next day to catch our train to London, from where we caught two tubes to another train station to catch another train to the airport. With very heavy bags. Always fun.

We didn't arrive at the airport with a huge amount of time to spare because of some tube delays earlier in the day, but we weren't in too much of a rush. Until, that is, bloke's bag got pulled out for a search at security. The guy searched for about fifteen minutes until he found what he was looking for - a tiny swiss army knife that bloke had forgotten he had. We were thus late to arrive at the gate and didn't get to sit together. Other than that it was an easy flight and we arrived at Toulon in plenty of time to pick up our rental car and navigate our way to Avignon. We had to stop by the coast first as bloke was most excited at seeing the Mediterranean for the first time. We made it to Avignon by about eight that night (Bless the French roads and their signposts) and ventured into the city for some dinner.

Avignon is a gorgeous town a walled medieval city, dominated by the Palais des Papes, the seat of Rome in the (I think ) 12th, 13th and 14th centuries. At night it was just stunning. Our hotel was small and basic, but very central. If it weren't for the creepy dolls littered about the dimly lit hallways, I'm sure I'd have liked it very much. The next day we headed out into the old city to do the tour of the Palais. They're big on audio tours in France, apparently. Which I always think are faintly ridiculous, but it was handy to have. We have many, many photographs, but as they're on bloke's camera, it'll be a while before I can get them up. Late in the afternoon we left Avignon to get to Nimes, which took about fifty minutes. The driving around Nimes looking for our hotel took another two hours, however, at the end of which we were both quite snippish, to put it mildly.

The next day in Nimes we spent looking at the Roman remains - a temple facade firstly, but also an ampitheatre in amazing condition. They still do bullfights there every year, and the festival had just finished when we arrived. The tour was fun, but I didn't really learn anything I didn't already know. From Nimes we drove down to Marseille airport to pick up my friends Pob and [livejournal.com profile] lil_nibbler, who had arrived with [livejournal.com profile] jaaam, her boyfriend Harry and her parents. I was given directions on how to get to the house in Provence, and off we set. After about ten minutes driving and looking at the map however, I realised that the directions were wrong, and we headed back the other way, eventually getting to the right road. The other car didnt realise so quickly however, and we had to wait quite some timebefore their car caught ours up. We reached Varages (a lovely little town in Provence) a bit before midnight, found the house up at the top of the tallest hill, had a cup of tea, and headed to bed.

The house was really lovely. It's used as a yoga retreat by the owners, who are friends of [livejournal.com profile] jaaam's parents. The list of fabulous things about the house is far too long to mention, but my favourites included - the pool, the five-ring gas hob, the balcony outside my bedroom window and the hammocks littered throughout the grounds, the Irish teabag supply already in the cupboard when we arrived. The views and the weatehr were spectacular the whole time we were there, though we got a little chilly at night, being so far up in the mountains. Our time at the house was pretty uneventful - lots of bread, cheese, wine, reading and Pictionary. I think it's the time of year for them too, but I saw at least ten shooting stars while I was hammocking at night. Myself and bloke drove down to the coast one day so we could swim in the Med too, but it was less than two hours each way, and not too strenuous. It was brilliant being able to hang out with ma buds and such, seeing as it's been so long since I've seen them, and just doss for five days.

Yesterday we left early in the morning so we had time to stop and take pictures and buy presents. We arrived at the airport in plenty of time, but our plane from Stansted was delayed becaue of the security restrictions there, which we'd only vaguely heard about. We were thus two hours late landing at STansted, and even the hour and a half cushion Id given us between landing and catching our bus wasnt enough. Also, bloke has an American passport, for which the queue was an hour long coming through customs. As he had to be up at six this morning to catch a flight to Boston from Manchester, this was not a great state of affairs, especially seeing as when we asked about coaches, we were told the next one would get us into Sheffield at four in the morning. Eventually we decided to rent a car that he could drop off at Manchester this morning, as it was cheaper and quicker than getting the train. We even got back home earlier than if we'd caught the coach we weremeant to get, which made up for the crapiness, if not the extra expense.

So that was my holiday, and I went back to the lab today, and I am tired.
jarsy: (Default)
I got the place! Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!!!

And I spent my weekend not only snowed under with work, but also, perhaps, going to a friend's Eurovision party. There were three American Eurovision virgins in attendence, le Bloke included, and they simply did not understand the wonder and joy of the whole extravaganza. Until the show started that is. We learned 'em. Well, with a little bit of help from Uncle Terry. We tried to explain how the voting is often the best part, and they definitely didnt believe that. But who was shouting at the screen by the end at any evidence of block voting? Mwahahahahah! Eurovision will get you all! Run, don't walk, from the CHEESEPANTS!

Now - to finish my last project and start my dissertation and get a job. That shouldnt be too hard, right?

Birfdays

Apr. 8th, 2006 04:27 pm
jarsy: (Default)
So, what happened was this.

I got a phonecall at about four on Thursday afternoon telling me to get an overnight bag together because we were getting a train at seven. Where to, I hear you ask? I did not yet know. Le Bloke wouldn't tell me, so I had to figure it out myself at the train station.

He took me to York! Where I've been planning on going forever but hadn't managed to get around to yet. We stayed in an utterly gorgeous hotel, where our room had two tv's. For why, I do not know. So Thursday night we went out for Mexican food, and once again indulged in our quest to find the nations finest margaritas. Mmm, frozen.

The next day we had breakfast in the room, hugged it, and said farewell so we could explore York. Le bloke's been there a few times already, so he knew where and what I'd want to see. First off we walked around one of the city's parks which has ruins of a Roman fort, a Norman fort and a medieval hospital and abbey. After that we wandered around the touristy street areas before going to York Minster. It's one of the most gorgeous churches I've ever been in, just glorious. Almost enough to convert a body to religion. Just not this one. We decided to climb to the top of the tower - all two hundred and something spiral steps. It was a bit of a struggle towards the end there, let me tell you. The view from the top was absolutely cracking though, if a bit windy. After a pub lunch and a few ales, we caught the train back to Sheffield, where the first thing we did collapse into bed for a nap. What a wild birthday, eh?

Post-nappage, we met up with friends in the pub, where I got some lovely cards and presents, then later moved on to a bar, where, again, I felt it my duty to partake of the margaritas. And le Bloke felt it was his duty to make me drink tequila shots. Was home in bed by about one, as pretty much all my friends had to be up at eight this morning for fieldwork. I was thinking of them as I was lying in bed 'til eleven. HAHAHHAHAHAHAHHA. That was an untruth.

And now I have to pack for five days in italy and six days at home. In a tiny backpack. Huzzah!

All in all though, a pretty rocking birthday. You hear that, next year? You see what you have to live up to? You better pull out all the stops, is all I'm saying...
jarsy: (Default)
It's finally snowing! And sticking! Yaaaaaay!

I wanna go out and play! Why has everyone fucked off on the most brilliant day of the year?

Oh well, I guess I'll have to play by myself.

YAAAAAAAAAAY!

*rolls around in snow like crazy person*
jarsy: (Default)
Been pretty busy, but the seminar I was meant to be running this week got cancelled, so hoorah! for free time. Free time with which I've mostly been looking at:

Imagine Stuart Allen Jones, Julian Clary and Liberace. Imagine them in a palace bedecked with chiffon, sequins and pinkness as far as the eye can see. Imagine them in drag. Imagine them singing along to some Liza. Are you there yet?

Because you're still nowhere near how gay this is.

And for possibly the greatest thing mankind has ever created, though possibly only completely hilarious if you're familiar with the X-Men - Juggernaut, bitch! - Not for those offended by language or misogyny, however. But I can't imagine anyone reading my journal would be offended by much, really.
jarsy: (Default)
Headed out for going-away dinner and drinks on Friday night. Dinner was delish, as even the people who were shouting at me for my lack of organisational skills had to agree. On to Sin E afterwards for pinting. I don't think I bought myself a drink the whole night; they just kept appearing in front of me. And how. Harry got us all onto the guest list for The Gaiety after Sin E, which was a whole bunch of fun. Oh my God the 80's cover band. There are no words. Much like there are no words for how drunk I was. I think I got sick once, but I'm not sure. What I am sure of is that I kept sneezing. So much snot. I'd forgotten to take a decongestant before I went out - not a good idea. I had to keep running to the bathroom to get toilet roll, then forgetting to bring some with me, then sneezing again and having to run back to the bathroom. I found it hilarious at the time.

I'm sure I was horrifyingly rude to some of the people who came to say goodbye to me. In fairness, I had no clue what was going on by the end of the night. So, sorry.

Apparently I was less drunk than Pants though, as she had the worst hangover of her life yesterday, just before she set off on the plane to Spain. Delightful.

What I should be doing now that all my socialising is over with is washing, packing, probably a little panicking. Instead, I'm sitting here updating my frigging livejournal, which is a far more constructive use of my time.

Also, looks like I'll be leaving on Thursday, not Friday. But we shall see. I'll probably never manage to escape this country at all.
jarsy: (Default)
I'm updating my livejournal on company time. So freakin' sweet. Oh yeah.

I don't actually have anything to say, except MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAAH!!!

Sly liketh the fox.
jarsy: (Default)
http://www.livejournal.com/users/blinkytreefrog/80660.html

This so much reminds me of a book I found in a second-hand shop last year - A Catholic Youth's Guide to Adolescence or something.

Go, read, piss yourself laughing.
jarsy: (Default)
So seeing as Deb likes posting our conversations, so shall I. The only disclaimer I can give is that we're both very judgemental people.

deb says: how's the michael jackson trial going?

Karen says: no idea

Karen says: i don't really pay attention

deb says: i got sick of seeing his face when i was back home

Karen says: except in a 'this is a microcosm of what's wrong with Western culture' kind of a way

deb says: like physically sick

deb says: hahaha

Karen says: face like a chicken wing

Karen says: it repulses me

deb says: i was reading an interview with some celebrity who was saying how upsetting it is to see him up close

Karen says: because it's like looking into the abyss?

deb says: the abyss would be far less unsettling

deb says: it's the concept of abyss that's horrifying, not its actual appearance

Look at us be topical!

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jarsy

November 2012

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