Monday 29; March, 1999

Again, no quotes. But I found out that Robyn has linked to me from Secret Passage, and I almost wet my pants in excitement and honour.
So um oh yeah. In Radio Production, Bomber came and gave us a lecture on Talkback Radio. He was an okay speaker, but I think that he was giving himself too much credit. It was funny when he was going on about editing Craccum, and howe powerful it made him, and I just kept thinking of pizza and pot, and Cute Little Gareth. And when he was rabbiting on about how new the talkback idea was, all I could think about was the Old Channel Z in Wellington – the one that actually used to be good. Bomber got so shot down at the end cos we got to ask questions, and I think we were a lot less believing than he’d expected us to be. Go GO hip media savvy students.

In TV production, we had two guest speakers talk to us about Maori Television. Shirley and I couldn’t stop drooling over the guy. He was wearing SUCH a nice suit – all black and a black shirt and a silver tie, and fuck he looked flash. She said he talked too Otara, but I figured that was okay – like oggling John Hannah for his accent or something.

After class we ran for the bathroom, cos another key point in the notes we were swapping was how bad we each needed to pee. Naturally there was a line, and one cubicle was unuseable, because there was no paper in it. Well, no one wanted to use it until Sheree came along and was like “It’s okay, I don’t have to do #2s” and went in. Ummm, what was that phrase from last year again? A disturbing level of self-disclosure.

Kate M finally admitted that her and Brad are going out, only they’d been trying to keep it a secret – secret my ass.

In PR com we had ANOTHER guest speaker – some loser from the Auckland City Council, who mumbled his way through the whole lecture and then failed to answer any of our questions properly. He sucked so bad man. So that was a great big waste of time.

In the evening, ummmmmm hmmmmm. Oh yeah, our second line is fucked so if I dial into the net using it, i can only stay online for like 3 minutes which is fucking annoying. It pissed me off so much that I did very little work on my TV essay, although I’ll justify myself because I stayed after class to go to the library and watch the bloody news tapes that I have to do my essay on. Besides, it was Makeout Monday, then I had to avoid Leyton, then I had to make pancakes and then I had to keep Simon company while he didn’t do HIS assignment. It was good though, cos when I finally went to bed at like 2.30am, I went straight to sleep. Gorgeous.

Oh yeah, there’s this spooky billboard on Symonds Street that mesmerizes me every time we get stuck in traffic next to it. It’s for the new ‘click’ bra – something that offers you four different levels of clevage. In order to demonstrate this concept, the breasts move in closer together, then move apart again. Terrifying. Jo and I decided, last time I talked to her on the phone, that the coolest bra would be just a pair of black guy’s hands that had been lopped off. Black not because we’re racist and want to cut off black people’s hands, but because the colour would look cooler on our skin.

Maybe we just have too much time on our hands.

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