Thursday, October 21, 2004
Sometimes the intellectual ability of Googlers depresses me. Okay. You have to go to an 80s night but you were either born in 1990 or have studiously ignored all the 80s revival fashion, music, movies etc that have been doing the rounds. So you decide: Google will tell me what to wear!
But instead of typing in 80s fashion or clothing 1980s or some such, you type in "80s night" "what to wear". What kind of retard does this? Someone who's hoping to find a website entitled "What to wear to an 80s night"? Or maybe when you type in meaning of "feel like a river" you're hoping for some website that says:
Hey, perhaps it's nothing but the ramblings of a country-n-western trollop, you idiot!
I'm in a bad mood because I am bored, and have the sort of aching legs that my mother used to refer to inaccurately as "growing pains". I had a blindness scare before that I was going to blog about. And hey! I'm doing it now. I was lying on my bed with one arm flung over my face, as I am wont to do for long stretches of time when bored, and when I got up, my long-distance vision was blurry. Of course, what did I do but hop in the car and drive!
It reminded me of Guy's 21st. The theme was "Rock Gods". I stupidly didn't realise you were supposed to pick a specific rock god, and I went as a "general ho". All night people were asking: "Are you Christina Aguilera?" "Are you Anastacia?" But I realised that I had no contact lenses, and what sort of rock god wears glasses? Well, Anastacia does, but that proves my point, really. Then I remembered I had an old pair in the bathroom cupboard, but they were from my old prescription, and I had to drive across town peering through the windscreen like an old lady. All the road signs were blurry and people's head and tail lights formed abstract patterns. I'm surprised I got there in one piece, really. And left in one piece, considering that Cam's vodka pouring got more and more generous as the night progressed. She was throwing up all the next day.
But instead of typing in 80s fashion or clothing 1980s or some such, you type in "80s night" "what to wear". What kind of retard does this? Someone who's hoping to find a website entitled "What to wear to an 80s night"? Or maybe when you type in meaning of "feel like a river" you're hoping for some website that says:
Chambers likens herself to a river to explain how her lover makes her feel; but this analogy is never fully explained. She also refers to herself as a pop star whose love spurs her to "sing [the song] on the radio"; however the presence of other vaguely religious references, such as a sinner surrendering his/her soul, angels and "walk[ing] through the fire" may lead to the interpretation that Chambers, in the song, may feel 'baptised' or in other ways rejuvenated by her love. As a river, Chambers is also the agent of her own baptism: ironically implying that, despite her avowal that the way she feels is a direct result of her lover ("you"), Chambers' feelings arise from within herself rather than as a result of the lover's actions.
Hey, perhaps it's nothing but the ramblings of a country-n-western trollop, you idiot!
I'm in a bad mood because I am bored, and have the sort of aching legs that my mother used to refer to inaccurately as "growing pains". I had a blindness scare before that I was going to blog about. And hey! I'm doing it now. I was lying on my bed with one arm flung over my face, as I am wont to do for long stretches of time when bored, and when I got up, my long-distance vision was blurry. Of course, what did I do but hop in the car and drive!
It reminded me of Guy's 21st. The theme was "Rock Gods". I stupidly didn't realise you were supposed to pick a specific rock god, and I went as a "general ho". All night people were asking: "Are you Christina Aguilera?" "Are you Anastacia?" But I realised that I had no contact lenses, and what sort of rock god wears glasses? Well, Anastacia does, but that proves my point, really. Then I remembered I had an old pair in the bathroom cupboard, but they were from my old prescription, and I had to drive across town peering through the windscreen like an old lady. All the road signs were blurry and people's head and tail lights formed abstract patterns. I'm surprised I got there in one piece, really. And left in one piece, considering that Cam's vodka pouring got more and more generous as the night progressed. She was throwing up all the next day.
