sam's making me listen to a swing orchestral version of the bond theme, this doesn't bode well

[foxtongue]

Does anyone know if the Livejournal Feed for We Make Money Not Art?

I feel lit by the fall-out from my computer screen even when I'm on the bus. It's how I haven't been writing. The result is a litany in my head of things to write, moments to mention; the man in front of me with the fleshy ears and the Orson Wells voice who, when I looked back from the doors to see what he looked like, had lips flecked with foam, or the person at the party whose business partner had bitten out his girlfriend's eye or how the mail delivery woman has, unsolicited, lent me her favourite novel. I've simply been too busy, though in a vague sort of way. I haven't set aside any time for self-care. My room is a clutter of other people's DVD's, other people's clothes, other people's books. My laundry is threatening to implode, to cede from the country, to sprout new tendrils of species, to metamorph from silk and lace into sweat-pants and ugly knit sweaters made of reconstituted newspaper clippings of uninteresting murders. I even have dirty dishes. Only a few cups and possibly one crusty fork, but an obscenely slacker sort of thing for someone who never manages to cook a meal when single.

Watch this.

Comments

[porphyre.livejournal.com]

It's not that I don't have the quaters all lined up and ready to slot into the machine. in fact, that's possibly the only money iI have right now the way my work's been scrambling my pay, but it's that I have been persistantly not home for long enough periods of time.

[silver-notebook.livejournal.com]

I realised it was a time not money issue: that's why I thought that anyone who was wondering what Jhayne wants for her birthday and has no idea, 'JHAYNE WANTS ALL HER WASHING DONE - she even has a little stash of quarters waiting to go in the machine.'
pity this is at the end of an older post, otherwise you might have had a little queue of local LJ people outside your flat when you got home, all competing to be the one to give you such a beautiful birthday present.

How terrifying.

[porphyre.livejournal.com]

I can imagine perhaps a small group of boys who I may or may not have ever heard of, who would have nicknames like 'wart' and I would not under any circumstances be glad they had my address. *grins*

Aaagh.

[silver-notebook.livejournal.com]

Doesn't bare thinking about. If you wore knickers they'd be stuffing them up their sleeves as they sneaked out of the room.
Laundry can only be trusted to those you either know and trust terrible well or have little contact with at all.

& then there's the fact tht boys frequently shrink girlclothes in the dryer

[porphyre.livejournal.com]

As if, because of the luandry situation, I wasn't in danger of running out of them already!