Tags: hitting on my friends

-- You're such a strange girl

Movie reviews in one line, because any longer means effort

Dead Snow = hilarious Norwegian Nazi zombie awesomeness. It was muchly enjoyed by us and the wine added to the goodness. (Alina and Alison screamed like girls the whole time.)

Jennifer's Body = so shit. Sooooo shit. Redeeming features? Um... very little. Even the ever-lovely Amanda Seyfried could not salvage it.

However, flatmate Jennifer's body? Lickable.
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Oh my god, Karen, you can't just ask people why they're white.

So, the plan for tonight was to turn the four metres of red fabric I bought into a dress instead. So Jen and I watched Mean Girls (OH YES WE DID) while I laid it all out on the floor and sort of made a pattern out of newspaper. By twenty minutes later I decided that I had no a clue what I was doing and maybe cutting the cloth up and just sort of pasting it to my body wasn't the best idea. I'll see if I can instead get a hold of Sam verysoon and she can tell me what to do, because whatever I was thinking wasn't working.

I lack the skills.

So I decided that I would work on the button holes on my other dress... but I have no blue thread to match it.

So tonight I got exactly nothing done on my medieval clothes, except for getting Jen into them and finding she looked quite hot in them. (But, let's face it, girl looks pretty damn good in most things, the sexy-waisted excellent-breasted cow. Although, a cow would mean udders not breasts and now there's all this imagery going on in my head and it needs to stop immediately.)

For the first time in a year I have dyed my hair. A YEAR. That's pretty much the longest I gone without dying it since I was about sixteen, which is madness. No photos, because it's not that dramatic. Just a rather pretty and very non-medieval berry sort of red. It has a nice sun glow to it but not the radioactive I used to have.
Boosh: I'm pretty good

Boosh fans! you BBC3 weirdos!

On Saturday night there was a Heroes and Villains party. So I say to myself, Self, who is the most bestest and sexiest villain?

The answer is, of course, The Hitcher. He will, after all, harness the powers of evil to abuse you. In song format.

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A few people got who I was. Everyone else was just confused to why I kept speaking to them in a bad cockney accent and threatening to put them in dolphin suits...
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OM NOM NOM NOM

The sweet sweet smell of free library wireless. Oh yeah, baby.

You know what's awesomely funny? When your flatmate flashes her tits to everyone in the living room because she forgets that she's already removed her bra earlier. Classic times, people. Classic breast filled times. (And those, as we know, are the best kind of times that there are.)

And now I wait for Ali to get off work - I can't see her at the moment - so we can go to the Victorian photography thingy that is on in town. I like Victorian. And photography. So this evening of entertainment is most obvious.

Although I'm starting to think that perhaps I shouldn't have left the house today without breakfast/lunch.
GS: Burn this whole world down

Talk and song from tongues of lilting grace

LFoD drinkies tonight means I have to clean my room. As one can understand this is a horrible thing for me to face and I have to remove to poets so I can vacuum. (Rats? Strangely not fond of the very loud sucking machine. Who would have thought it?) Uuuuugh, task too daunting. Abort. Abort.

Slave auction and party last night was pretty damn awesome even if I was - shock horror - sober. (See, mum? Totally not a drunk ;P) Had heaps of fun actually and did my regular trick of stealing leather jackets from the nearest male. It remains one of my very favourite games.

I want to end this on something really witty, but alas I have nothing.

EDIT: Hats make me look like a twat.

Rock on, my bitches.

\m/>.<\m/
-- Te quiero

Fuzzy little monsters. No, not the flatmates.

On Saturday night everything seemed to be working against us, so we never got to the In Goth We Trust thing that was happening in town. A pity, since I was really looking forward to it. But, eh, what can you do, right?

We went in on Sunday and watched Hera playing in the art centre. She's completely adorable and has some incredible pipes on her. (And Alison uses her as the face for evil batshite insane angel in Darker London who I can never quite be as scared of now...)

Last night in my dream there was a very loud party here and I got completely wasted, and this morning when I woke up I felt like I was deathly hungover until I realised I couldn't possibly be. Imaginary hangover? That sucks!

Pony-obsessed Muz has been demanding photos of my rats for ages, and so who am I to deny a gorgeous friend's sexy boyfriend? (Look at me rack up those brownie points, babies!)

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I am so twitching to get hold of Queen Adreena's The Butcher and the Butterfly and Ride a Cock Horse. *twitch*

ETA: Oh my god! Deadpool is going to be in the Wolverine movie? Deadpool is fuckin' awesome! As if I wasn't already excited enough that Taylor Kitsh was going to be in it, now I get a Deadpool. Squee! I want this movie to not suck SO MUCH. Please be good, powers that be, please be good! (And while you're at it, since Hugh and Taylor are down in Queenstown, encourage them to come visit Christchurch?)