I should be well excited for this weekend.
Just got home to London, Fulham are playing their biggest game of the season tomorrow and I somehow managed to wangle a ticket. Then going to a massive party in Kings Cross where a good mate is DJing. But someone, no names, who was supposed to be coming tomorrow to the club thing with me has now decided she's going away for the weekend with her mates. Oh that's fine I've only come 300 miles because I'd love to see you, you do what you want I don't mind at all.
(Barry from Eastenders is, despite the words written above, not a woman, Fri 24 Feb 2012, 19:34, 1 reply, 14 years ago)

Yeah, that'spretty shit.
I've had an absolute arsehole of a day, and I can't even get ratted because of this stupid diet. There's fuck all on telly, and it doesn't look like there's going to much going on in here tonight to keep me entertained.
( b3th Not shit. Not mod., Fri 24 Feb 2012, 19:37, Reply)

Go to the pier.

( JeffTheDogFucker Can you dig it?, Fri 24 Feb 2012, 19:53, Reply)

Hello you.
I don't think even the pier could help me tonight.

TWO rejections in one week, Jeff. TWO.
( b3th Not shit. Not mod., Fri 24 Feb 2012, 19:54, Reply)

There was something on the radio the other day
To the effect that the national average is 75 applications for one job.
( The Disappointed Caravanner of the year, Fri 24 Feb 2012, 20:20, Reply)