Days are slowly lengthening as the sun now rises at a good time and sets at a great time relative to the stupid hours in winter. I'm not sure if February is considered a winter month, but who can really tell in Britain? This country only knows two seasons anyway. Not wanting to sound like I'm belly-aching about the weather or something, because that's like dumping on Britney Spears post-pregnancy - it ain't clever and everyone does it, but I went out this morning expecting the weather to maintain yesterday's warmer temperatures and of course I froze my ass off walking to class. After my lecture on soldiers and the warrior's code, I decided to walk to the Learning Grid and photocopy my readings in a rare moment of industriousness. The Grid is about 300m or so from my lecture hall (and I bet I'm exaggerating), and that's FAR by Warwick Uni terms. Yeah they say it's a big, sprawling campus in the prospectus, but the only signs of sentient life are visible on central campus, and the rest of the university grounds host ducks and their droppings, and lots and lots of grass. I figured I'd warm up my muscles and work up an appetite, but the sun came out and my armpits were sweating like condensation on a shiny smelly hippo's body. By the time I stumbled into the Grid with my arms raised to prevent my pits from sticking to the sides of my body, I felt slightly nauseous. Two girls looked over curiously at my inert body slumped over the photocopier and the puddle of lifejuices at my feet. Once I slid on my bodily moisture out the front door though, the cold wind hit me like Mike Tyson and my nose started running. Ha! So, Hairy, dya still think I'm sexy?

Made a pitstop at the Arts Centre to sign up for steward shifts. Am gonna be doing two movies - 'Breakfast On Pluto' and 'Walk The Line' the next two Mondays, and Mike Leigh's new play 'Two Thousand Years' next Wednesday. I wonder why I don't sign up for more movie-stewarding. After all, you get paid to watch a movie, and the theatre's never full so it's a breeze to check tickets. The only drawback is when the movie is as excruciatingly bad as The Brothers Grimm (Terry Gilliam is VERY overrated), and you can't walk out. You also have to wait til EVERYONE leaves the theatre, and you always get some idiot gazing intently at the credits like it actually means anything. Seriously. Brothers Grimm? I bet half those people didn't want their names printed. Then this idiot walks slowly to the exit, turning to check out the screen when the last sorry person has already been credited. Maybe he was waiting for Gilliam to apologise for the 2 excruciating hours and here's the real film / your money back - I dunno.

I am also the proud owner of a Canon Digital Ixus 700.

Why do I need 7.1 megapixels? Because it's like penis size. I may only use resolutions of up to 4 or 5 megapixels, a vagina may only be 3-4 inches long - who cares? All you wanna say is "Yeah I have the Ixus 700...it's 7.1 megapixels you know" or "Yeah my penis is alright...it's 9 inches you know".

Also, it's refurbished and cost about 160quid. A few surface scratches but performance-wise it's perfectly fine. I'm more snap-happy now that I like to take opportunities to whip it out, but its talents have mostly been wasted taking copious amounts of pictures of Hairy.

 

 

"Sigh..."

 

 

Comments

[nicole]

omg... thats a gorgeous camera. i'm still stuck with the ixus i. i can't tell if hairy is in pain or satiated.