In which I reveal my true colours

The idea that I will push you away from me long before you will even have a chance to start to dislike and then reject me is not a new one. I remember way back in the olden days, like ’02/03, talking to (Good)*Tom who assured me that there was nothing I could ever do that would ever make him move away from me. I asked if sleeping with his brother would do the trick, and he said it wouldn’t. Maybe I should have said his sister. Hi Mary. Heh.

Anyways, my narrative thread, my reason for getting out of my nice warm bed to go and find my computer (my new eeePC, so so so cute) wasn’t to talk about Tom at all. I think my thread was supposed to start with how I was texting Tingle “If you want to make your life less complicated, stop replying to drunkass random dumbasses who aren’t your girlfriend” and perhaps try to explain about how we (you and I, my dear reader) got to this stage in my storytelling, but I’m not entirely convinced that it will work out that way. So perhaps I could make a bulleted list of what’s what?

  • Computer says No. Computer says numbered list instead, and who am I to argue? I should mention that I am now running Linux. OH HELL YES. Also, thanks to the lovely Heather, Hubris is now running on Drupal. Sing out if you have any problems with it as such.
  • Today was The Food Show. As such, I had long ago booked the day off work. Karen and I were followed around by Anji and Bambi, and generally really good time was had, eating so many things and drinking many many things, but then we had somewhat of a difference of opinion which didn’t end well, and consequently I ended up behaving like a brat as mentioned in paragraph two. Which we have already discussed, and I should point out that yes, I do take full responsibility for my own actions. I just find it hard to continue to have to be responsible for other people too.
  • In other websites news, and the Wellingtonista are both going really well. I am so stoked that Amy and I are maintaining momentum in keeping our site going. We’ve also welcomed Mrs. Bizgirl into our fold. and Monday nights are full of good-smelling prettiness as a consequence.
  • Yesterday my laptop power supply died, so I went to buy a new one, but at DSE they said that they didn’t have the right one and weren’t likely to get it in ever so I decided to fork out and get this ultra portable mini computer instead. It’s like the nokia 1100 of laptops, super small and light and convenient, and has all the functions you need and some you didn’t realise you wanted (webcam is the new torch) but is all cheap and stuff. Plus, like I said. LINUX. Penguins are so hot right now. But not as hot as Sebastian.
  • As I twittered earlier this week, all felicousnessly, on Saturday my hymen grows back. Well, maybe Bart’s birthday party was at the end of May last year so that I might have a couple more weeks, but there are no prospects at all. As I said to a lady friend recently “I really want some dicking but I keep on kissing girls”. I am lame. And also running out of battery.
  • And now I am back, and it is Saturday and I am waiting for my sheets to finish washing before I go to the supermarket, so I have time now to tell you about how my counsellor told me to build a raft of socks. Heh. She advised me to buy more socks so that my mornings aren’t thrown by a lack of clean laundry. It’s as frustrating as all fuck that my life has come down to this, that I need a counsellor to tell me to do things that ‘normal’ people just manage to do at all times. I hate when I fail to function properly. But yes, I will buy more socks. I also was going to listen to her advice about not contacting people again, but then I didn’t, but now I have come across as psycho enough that it won’t be an issue anymore, so it turns out that maybe reckless self-sabotage can be the best thing a person can do for themselves.
  • * There is Good Tom because his last name starts with a G, and Bad Tom whose name starts with a B, but as to whether or not their names are deserved, I am constantly divided.

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