I've just come to a horrific conclusion. Allthough I can indeed play Bach concertos to quite a high standard, Bach appears to be all I can play. I can't actually play anything else. NOTHING. Which is going to prove a rather large problem when it comes to my assessment, because I have to play 2 very hard peices, both of which are destincly not Bach. Dammit. Not even similar.
"Please Mr Sidebottom (yes my violin techer is called Raymond Sidebottom. What rotten luck. Haha!)!! I tried to play the Caesar Franck!! I really did!! Pleeaaaase dont eat me!! NOOOOOOOoooooooooooo......"
My mum bought shitty peanuts. I love peanuts, and she knows it, and she bought the shitty rubbish Morrisons own brand instead of KP. "But the bags twice the size for half the price..." fuck off!! But I'm still eating them, because they're there, staring at me. Tormenting me. Like Pringles. Argh.
Why is my fly allways undone? I must remember to do it up before I get into some embarrassing situations.
I went shopping with my mum this morning. Only because I was promised hot chocolate in the Thorntons cafe. And hot chocolate from the Thorntons cafe I got. Allong with some rather tasty dark and white chocolate cheescake. Yuuuuuuuuum...
Holy shit these peanuts are minging. **tosses said peanuts out of upstairs widow and sticks up twos after them**
College tomorrow. I really don't want to go. My Mondays are positively poo. I have from 12pm - 6pm with no break, which encludes theatre with John fucking-arsewiping-sweaty-dog-bollock-eating-wankface Joyce, and performance studies with Katie Shitface.
Poor peanuts, it's not their fault they had a bad start in life...
Okay, I might be going slightly insane.
Over and under and out.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
These happy days are yours and mine, these happy days are yours and mine, happy days.
He said: Marry me please.
She said: I might consider it, maybe... if you were the last guy on earth.
He said: I'll just have to become a mass murderer then won't I?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Buahahahahahahahaaaaa!!! I am Tommytigree the scare-meister and I am taking over Lucy's diary!!! FEAR MEEEE!!!
Haha hello bumblebee!! :)
That is SO TRUE...your observation about "private" internet diaries. Those folks should just get themselves spiral notebooks, write in them, and stash them under their mattresses. Stop clogging up Cyberspace with their OH SO SECRET trash.
Later.
: P
(Did they even have bar wenches in that movie?....no, haha.)
I looked back an entry, only to descover that you're only coming next weekend to see Socks.
:(
Not talking to you.
amanda
Love you.
:p
Yes, please.
:D
Unless it's no longer attached to the person/animal it came from (exceptions include leather, etc.)
In which case it can be annoying. Bloody dust.
Poppy's being a bitch though. She's suddenly grown into an evil superbitch in my absence.
Did you like my nice little addaptation to you diary habitat?! You really should change your passwords once in a while. :p
: P
Poog.
When I read your comment about the coconutty shower gel I could actually smell coconuts. It was nice.
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john lennon is positively yummy, even still, no?
You have great taste, I approve!
:P
Have a good day!
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