Loud Noisy
Nov. 19th, 2007 03:46 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
blacklillyMy neighbour got home at the same time as me today. He's a noisy fucker. Right now he's on the phone, and I believe the person who knocked at my door a moment ago is in there now, adding to the odd creaking - no, he's still banging at the door... WTF?
I could hear him snoring last night as well. However, I believe I contributed equally after a bout of insomnia led me to fall back to sleep at 5.30am. Until 8am I had a series of very lucid dreams, one of which involved my catfish asking to suck my blood. Old friends were also in there leaving the taps on in my apartment. My contribution was the numerous times I came to near consciousness by talking or shouting loudly.
Last night, to try and get over the Miseries, I went to Yongo Yongo. And indeed, there is nothing better than listening to Black Sabbath and discussing Velvet Revolver, Led Zepplin, Helloween and various others with Mama to alleviate the blues. All over a bottle of nice Spanish wine. Oishikatta to omishiroi desu.
This weekend I've been quizzed twice about whether or not I want a boyfriend. It seems, at 27, I need to be settling down and thinking about pushing one out. We were talking about the qualities I desire in a man - this was quite tricky, but I guess it would be: intelligent, good at talking (and listening), funny, creative, passionate and honest. So, the likelihood of finding one of those in a country where 70% of men cheat on their wives is highly unlikely. The more I think about men though, the less I like them.
Spell check doesn't like the word "fucker".
I'm going to play music loudly and try to do something creative.
I could hear him snoring last night as well. However, I believe I contributed equally after a bout of insomnia led me to fall back to sleep at 5.30am. Until 8am I had a series of very lucid dreams, one of which involved my catfish asking to suck my blood. Old friends were also in there leaving the taps on in my apartment. My contribution was the numerous times I came to near consciousness by talking or shouting loudly.
Last night, to try and get over the Miseries, I went to Yongo Yongo. And indeed, there is nothing better than listening to Black Sabbath and discussing Velvet Revolver, Led Zepplin, Helloween and various others with Mama to alleviate the blues. All over a bottle of nice Spanish wine. Oishikatta to omishiroi desu.
This weekend I've been quizzed twice about whether or not I want a boyfriend. It seems, at 27, I need to be settling down and thinking about pushing one out. We were talking about the qualities I desire in a man - this was quite tricky, but I guess it would be: intelligent, good at talking (and listening), funny, creative, passionate and honest. So, the likelihood of finding one of those in a country where 70% of men cheat on their wives is highly unlikely. The more I think about men though, the less I like them.
Spell check doesn't like the word "fucker".
I'm going to play music loudly and try to do something creative.
