It works again*! But don't read them, because they're shite. But whatever.
Anyway! It looks like I may well be going on the 3rd. Everyone else should come to, and also someone should give me a crashspace because I rock and will soon have an Erase Errate/Sonic Youth split 7", but y'all still can't touch me.
*Please delete the stupid fucking " to stop it 404ing yr ass.
Anyway... I'm in Swindon on the 3rd (y'all know how much I love Swindon, right?) and thus have no idea if I can convince my parents to slope away so early I can get to this. I probablly can't. And the weekend after, with a choice of dates, possibly, in London and Brighton? Yeh? I probablly can't make either of those either.
But then I'm not telling you where you can get the Erase Errata / Sonic Youth split 7", becuase you have to be jealous of me for something, fuckdammit!
Germany is a completely different country in Europe.
I still feel guilty for not doing anything to the Nazi, up to and including knifing her in her stupid head.
And so from that, to this:
A German (they come from Germany. See above), with a really thick, really obvious German accent comes in and, at the end of her £30 shopping bill, asks if she could add some things she brought earlier that today to her bill, to make her petrol discount bigger. I try explaining to her that it’s a boundary based system and that she’d have to spend £20 more the get a bigger discount. You’d be surprised at how little foresight people have, not equipping themselves with phrases like “boundary based system” into their conversation-themed understanding of foreign languages.
So in the end I pointed her, nicely, to the poster on the wall explaining everything to her, thanked her and she left. I felt bad, because no one likes not getting things in foreign languages and holding up queues and being wrong. And then this guy comes up, and he has the local accent and everything, which just makes the next bit worse (we can see France from here, you know. See above for more information on that not-German country) and informs me that “They probably don’t bother with that in France, it’s too complicated for them”. I nearly wet myself, but keep my mouth shut, thinking about what I can do.
The man then, with no help from me, proceeds to give me the wrong money for his shopping and then just SHUT HIS HAND, FOR NO REASON, AND TRY AND PUT THE CHANGE IN HIS POCKET, WITH THE CHANGE STILL COMING. LOOK, FUCKNUTS, I’VE STILL GOT YR MONEY! YOU MUST DO THIS TWICE A WEEK, AT LEAST, AND STILL YOU CAN’T DO SOMETHING SIMPLE LIKE TAKEING YR OWN FUCKING MONEY!! YOU HAVE FUCKED UP A COMPLETELY SIMPLE TASK SIMPLY BECAUSE I WAS GOING SLOWLY! AND NOT EVEN THAT SLOWLY! JUST A BIT SLOWLY! AND COUNTING IN A VERY LOUD, SLOW WAY TO MAKE SURE YOU UNDERSTOOD WHAT I WAS SAYING, BECAUSE YOU’RE STUPID, AND WITH ALL THIS ADVANCED WARNING, YOU ARE STILL TOO STUPID TO DO SIMPLE THINGS! AND YR CHANGE IS STILL COING, NUTFUCKER, AND I’M STILL COUNTING AND YR FIST IS SHUT. WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO, STUPID FACE??
I realise that that’s not very interesting at all for you, and in no way as cool as it should be, but it made me feel better. And besides, the guy was so stupid that he didn’t realise that, apparently, taking yr change is too complicated for him. And does anyway find it incredibly scary that a man who can’t tell the difference between FUCKING FRANCE and FUCKING GERMANY gets to have a say on the Euro?? I’m now definitely vote yes, and then find him and jab all my old sterling notes yr his nose, possibly screaming HOW’D YOU LIKE THE QUEEN’S MONEY NOW, SHITFACE??
PS: Also, there’s really a country called The Federated States of Micronesia, and Jack Davenport appears to have taken a role in a film where he plays a character called Jack. This makes perfect sense to me, as he appears almost terminally incapable of playing anything other then a vaguely posh, vaguely irritating, vaguely “modern”, vaguely worthy of violent death little bastard. And now I’m totally sold on Pirates Of The Caribbean, simply to see how he remains an aloof, snobby wanker with a cravat. And yes, I realize that these are only roles in television programmes, but having managed to play a vaguely posh, vaguely irritating, vaguely “modern”, vaguely worthy of violent death lawyer, a vaguely posh, vaguely irritating, vaguely “modern”, vaguely worthy of violent death porn-obsessed office worker, a vaguely posh, vaguely irritating, vaguely “modern”, vaguely worthy of violent death food-hording classist train commuter in a silent film and a vaguely posh, vaguely irritating, vaguely “modern”, vaguely worthy of violent death VAMPIRE HUNTER, it’s possibly safe to assume that, while he may not be a vaguely posh, vaguely irritating, vaguely “modern”, vaguely worthy of violent death actor, he is sufficiently stunted in his “abilities” to warrant jerking at the neck and a look of fear in my eyes every time I’m told he’s in something.
Oh, and don’t tell me that you’d like to see me do better as an actor. I know I couldn’t be more varied, but then that’s the point, I FUCKING KNOW. His irritating nature just oozes out of him, ALL THE TIME.