strawberrri.diaryland.com
All the ducks are swimming in the water
2003-01-24 | 2:48 p.m.

I'm slightly ill again, but Ibuprofen + alcohol = fun! I'm glad I didn't get ill last night from alcohol though. I'm not sure if Laura did or not as I haven't seen her today, but I was sensible enough to stop drinking when the room was only spinning slowly, and then drink four pints of diet Coke, which turned me from drunk into incredibly hyperactive and babbly.

I also didn't want to get drunk because I'm going out to our student union tonight and Jade from Big Brother is making a guest appearance and I want to throw empty bottles of Smirnoff Ice at her head and just generally be part of the rowdy mob who are anti-Jade but are idiotic enough to pay a fiver to go and see her.

Saw 8 Mile the other day, and if only the characters didn't end EVERY SINGLE ONE of their sentences with either 'bitch' or 'dawg' then......no it would still have been the biggest pile of shit I've ever had the misfortune to see on big screen. The story is as follows: Eminem freezes on stage at a rapping contest. Eminem moves in with his mum in a caravan. Eminem shags Brittany Murphy. Eminem's friend shags Brittany Murphy. Eminem gets beaten up. Eminem's mum wins bingo. Eminem wins a rapping contest.

See! See! You don't need to watch it now, and if you were planning on seeing it and I've just ruined the storyline for you then I offer apologies and chocolates.

Ooh, and I got sent a fwd email that made me laugh. Well, I had to stifle my laughter as coughing because I'm in the library and there really are enough people in the world that think I'm insane as it is and I don't want any more added to the collection. Here it is:

> Clear DayFuture Novelists......

> These are actual analogies and metaphors found in high school essays:

>

> Her face was a perfect oval, like a circle that had its two other sides

> gently compressed by a thigh master.

>

> His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and breaking alliances like

> underpants in a dryer without Cling Free.

>

> He spoke with wisdom that can only come from experience, like a guy

> who went blind because he looked at a solar eclipse without one of

> those boxes with a pinhole in it and now goes around the country

> speaking about the dangers of looking at a solar eclipse without one

> of those boxes with a pinhole in it.

>

> She grew on him like E. coli and he was room temperature Canadian beef.

>

> She had a deep throaty genuine laugh like that sound a dog makes just

> before he throws up.

>

> Her vocabulary was as bad, as, like, whatever.

>

> He was as tall as a six foot three inch tree.

>

> The revelation that his marriage of 30 years had disintegrated because

> of his wife's infidelity came as a rude shock, like a surcharge at a

> formerly surcharge free ATM.

>

> The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a bowling

> ball wouldn't.

>

> McBride fell 12 stories, hitting the pavement like a hefty bag filled

> with vegetable soup.

>

> From the attic came an unearthly howl. The whole scene had an eerie

> surreal quality, like when you're on vacation in another city and

> Jeopardy comes on at 7 pm instead of 7:30.

>

> Her hair glistened in the rain like nose hair after a sneeze.

>

> The hailstones leaped up off the pavement, just like maggots when you

> fry them in hot grease.

>

> Long separated by cruel fate, the star crossed lovers raced across a

> grassy field toward each other like two freight trains, on having left

> Cleveland at 6:36 p.m. traveling at 55 mph, the other from Topeka at

> 4:19 p.m. at a speed of 35 mph.

>

> They lived in a typical suburban neighborhood with picket fences that

> resemble Nancy Kerrigan's teeth.

>

> John and Mary had never met. They were like two hummingbirds who had also

> never met.

>

> He fell for her like his heart was a mob informant and she was the east

> river.

>

> Even in his last years, grandpappy had a mind like a steel trap, only

> one that had been left out so long, it had rusted shut.

>

> Shots rang out, as shots are wont to do.

>

> The plan was simple, like my brother-in-law Phil. But unlike Phil,

> this plan just might work.

>

> Young fighter had a hungry look, the kind you get from not eating for

> while.

>

> "Oh, Jason, take me!" she panted, her breasts heaving like a college

> freshman on $1-a-beer night.

>

> He was as lame as a duck. Not the metaphorical lame duck, either, but

> a really duck that was actually lame. Maybe from stepping on a landmine or

> something.

>

> The Ballerina rose gracefully en pointe and extended one slender leg

> behind her, like a dog at a fire hydrant.

>

> It was an American tradition, like fathers chasing kids with power tools.

>

> He was deeply in love when she spoke, he thought he heard bells, as if

> she were a garbage truck backing up.

>

> She was as easy as the TV guide crossword.

>

> Her eyes were like limpid pools, only they had forgotten to put in

> any pH cleanser.

>

> She walked into my office like a centipede with 98 missing legs.

>

> Her voice had that tense grating quality, like a generation thermal

> paper fax machine that needed a band tightening.

>

> It hurt the way your tongue hurts after you accidentally staple it to

> the wall.

>

>

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