As I don�t watch telly, Im taking the laptop with me, along with the usual selection of books and toys, L�s smelly t-shirt from the bottom of the washing basket (fuck off. Its comforting) and a bottle of whisky (cos I�ll be away for four days and I cant afford to drink whisky in hotel bars.).
Obviously, this wont be enough to keep me occupied for the duration (L refused point blank to load any films on the laptop for my delectation � he�s such a poop. Whining �Awww, they�re all on the external hard drive, it�ll take AGES� is a crap excuse in my book), and so that�s where YOU, dear readers, come in. Knowing me as you do, and some of you do know me pretty well, I invite you to come to my virtual rescue. Instead of banging on my hotel room door at 2am, with 30 of your closest friends, and dragging me away to a party before I can say �I�ll just finish this repor�.�, I ask that you leave me a comment or a note and direct me ever internet-ward to sites of amusement, delight, entertainment or whatever.
Let ME be into what YOU�RE into! I promise faithfully to follow EVERY link and to watch for as long as it takes me to get bored/get off/get the sick bucket.
Hell, I may even throw caution to the wind and offer a prize for�.something. Most entertaining, weirdest, the one that makes me snort whisky outta my nose, something like that. Rest assured that any prizes offered will be spectacularly crap, so don�t get your hopes up. There is, after all, a limit to the stuff one can nick from hotel rooms send through the post. Winners of my last contest may recall the boxes of chocolates which looked a bit like lumps of poo.
Oh, and BTW, if you want to remain anonymous in your choice of entertainment � I mean, not everyone wants the whole of diaryland to know that they cant get enough Alpine Horn Music, or Morris Dancing Kittens or if Bulgereport keeps you up at night (thanks to Slaveboy for the link AND the pun!), your secret will be safe with me � you can email me (stepfordtartATdiarylandDOTcom) and I will still follow your links and watch with the same mixture of bewilderment, hysterical laughter or slack-jawed wonder as I shall for the �public� suggestions.
In the words of that bangle wearing, urban myth inspiring, pipecleaner legged songster Marc Almond��Entertain me, Im as blank as can be, and Ive seen it before and Ive done it before�..�
Later
S
x
PS *As any fool knows, Baww, baww, bawww-uh is the noise an electric guitar makes. When it isnt going bidddle-e-eeee, of course.
Edit: 11pm Tues eve. MFV is winning so far but more naked people would be good. Have snorted some whisky outta my nose but need to do real damage (or a real need to break out the toys) for the winning prize. Keep up the good work. Pip pip. s x
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