Profile for heckzecutive:
I now know how to pronounce b3ta, but I'm still going to pronounce it "bee-three-tee-ay".
Also, I am not a chap.
*edit*
Apparently this is not enough to ensure I am accepted by the b3ta community. Ten facts:
1. I'm 27
2. I live in London *UPDATE* London is shit. I live in Manchester.
3. I like to make jewellery with CUNT written on it in braille
4. I work in the media, which means that:
4.1 I can't say lots about what I do at work
4.1.2 It does involve celebrities though
4.1.2.1 Yes, they're all mostly wankers
4.2 I am a wanker
5. My favourite pudding is creme brulee
6. I really love The Donnas and I don't care what you think
7. I write music reviews and stuff in my spare time
8. I make videos with my mate Clarissa, here: http://lifeskillsification.wordpress.com
9. I think Boris Johnson is hot, but am not a Conservative
10. I have a BA (hons), an MA, and a 38F.
I'm still going to get 'Fail' shouted at me constantly anyway, so I don't know why I'm bothering.
Recent front page messages:
none
Best answers to questions:
- a member for 16 years, 0 months and 13 days
- has posted 16 messages on the main board
- has posted 231 messages on the talk board
- has posted 63 messages on the links board
- (including 12 links)
- has posted 2 stories and 2 replies on question of the week
- They liked 27 pictures, 29 links, 7 talk posts, and 27 qotw answers.
- Ignore this user
- Add this user as a friend
- send me a message
I now know how to pronounce b3ta, but I'm still going to pronounce it "bee-three-tee-ay".
Also, I am not a chap.
*edit*
Apparently this is not enough to ensure I am accepted by the b3ta community. Ten facts:
1. I'm 27
2. I live in London *UPDATE* London is shit. I live in Manchester.
3. I like to make jewellery with CUNT written on it in braille
4. I work in the media, which means that:
4.1 I can't say lots about what I do at work
4.1.2 It does involve celebrities though
4.1.2.1 Yes, they're all mostly wankers
4.2 I am a wanker
5. My favourite pudding is creme brulee
6. I really love The Donnas and I don't care what you think
7. I write music reviews and stuff in my spare time
8. I make videos with my mate Clarissa, here: http://lifeskillsification.wordpress.com
9. I think Boris Johnson is hot, but am not a Conservative
10. I have a BA (hons), an MA, and a 38F.
I'm still going to get 'Fail' shouted at me constantly anyway, so I don't know why I'm bothering.
Recent front page messages:
none
Best answers to questions:
» Kids
my Dad thought so much of us
...that he consistently lied to me and my little brother throughout the course of our childhood. Here are my favourites:
The family pets
Before going to bed at night, our Dalmatian Sally would supposedly take off her spots (one by one) and pile them by the side of her bed, before putting on her pink and blue stripes. Meanwhile, Guinness the cat (black body, white head [she didn't actually have a white head, but that's a whole other story]) would unzip her furry suit and put on her pyjamas.
Ireland
The ancient castle ruins commonly seen around the south coast of Ireland were actually put up last year by the Irish tourist board. The ivy was spray-painted on. In yesteryears, the Irish sea was populated by the Armani Pirates, who went around in sharp suits and sunglasses, listening to Duran Duran and floating snares on the rock exchange.
Asquith
How did our semi-detached somehow get tidier between bedtime and breakfast? That would be the butler, Asquith. His father was our Dad's Batman during the Late Unpleasantness (Dad was Robin, because actually Robin was in charge, but nobody's allowed to tell Batman in case he gets upset) and he lived Below Stairs. This led to long expeditions into the under-stairs cupboard and a great many tellings off for trying to peel up the carpet.
The lift
We moved house. How did my parents get all the furniture upstairs? In the lift, of course. Did they have lifts when our house was built in 1869? According to my Dad, yes they did - because he was there (Dad was born when the Dinosaurs Roamed The Earth). We spent over ten years looking for that bloody lift.
The worst thing is, I still fall for the old bastard's blatant lies. The one thing I never believed was the atrocious untruth that my Dad's cousin helped to develop both the computer hard drive and cold fusion - but it turns out that he actually did.
(Sat 19th Apr 2008, 1:41, More)
my Dad thought so much of us
...that he consistently lied to me and my little brother throughout the course of our childhood. Here are my favourites:
The family pets
Before going to bed at night, our Dalmatian Sally would supposedly take off her spots (one by one) and pile them by the side of her bed, before putting on her pink and blue stripes. Meanwhile, Guinness the cat (black body, white head [she didn't actually have a white head, but that's a whole other story]) would unzip her furry suit and put on her pyjamas.
Ireland
The ancient castle ruins commonly seen around the south coast of Ireland were actually put up last year by the Irish tourist board. The ivy was spray-painted on. In yesteryears, the Irish sea was populated by the Armani Pirates, who went around in sharp suits and sunglasses, listening to Duran Duran and floating snares on the rock exchange.
Asquith
How did our semi-detached somehow get tidier between bedtime and breakfast? That would be the butler, Asquith. His father was our Dad's Batman during the Late Unpleasantness (Dad was Robin, because actually Robin was in charge, but nobody's allowed to tell Batman in case he gets upset) and he lived Below Stairs. This led to long expeditions into the under-stairs cupboard and a great many tellings off for trying to peel up the carpet.
The lift
We moved house. How did my parents get all the furniture upstairs? In the lift, of course. Did they have lifts when our house was built in 1869? According to my Dad, yes they did - because he was there (Dad was born when the Dinosaurs Roamed The Earth). We spent over ten years looking for that bloody lift.
The worst thing is, I still fall for the old bastard's blatant lies. The one thing I never believed was the atrocious untruth that my Dad's cousin helped to develop both the computer hard drive and cold fusion - but it turns out that he actually did.
(Sat 19th Apr 2008, 1:41, More)
» Pet Peeves
The Piccadilly line
It makes me angry that I can't go on London's Piccadilly line without committing suicide. Let me explain.
The Piccadilly line goes through Leicester Square. Russell Brand used to have a TV show called 1 Leicester Square, and it's at least slightly possible that I might see him there.
The problem is, I have a deep loathing for Russell Brand, and I have vowed to kill him if I should ever see him in person. I generally carry a bright pink leather filofax, so I'd probably beat him to death with it until he lay festering away on the pavement, getting a few kicks in for good measure.
However, Leicester Square is a big place with lots of fucking tourists in it: i.e. lots of witnesses. I'd be locked away, probably for life, while Russell Brand took on a Kurt Cobain-style iconic post-death mega-celebrity status. It would be so stressful that my meds would stop working and I'd start having epileptic seizures.
Imagine the scene: stuck in prison writhing unconscious on the floor while your arch nemesis is mourned by the nation. Tributes on TV. Tacky merchandise. Statues in every town. I'd almost certainly hang myself with ripped up sheets or electrical cord I had to dig out of the wall with my fingernails. That's not a pleasant death.
That's what makes me angry.
*edit* Also, my parents thought it would be amusing to buy me his autobiography for Christmas. I always thought I would never sink so low as to burn books. I was so wrong.
(Fri 2nd May 2008, 15:12, More)
The Piccadilly line
It makes me angry that I can't go on London's Piccadilly line without committing suicide. Let me explain.
The Piccadilly line goes through Leicester Square. Russell Brand used to have a TV show called 1 Leicester Square, and it's at least slightly possible that I might see him there.
The problem is, I have a deep loathing for Russell Brand, and I have vowed to kill him if I should ever see him in person. I generally carry a bright pink leather filofax, so I'd probably beat him to death with it until he lay festering away on the pavement, getting a few kicks in for good measure.
However, Leicester Square is a big place with lots of fucking tourists in it: i.e. lots of witnesses. I'd be locked away, probably for life, while Russell Brand took on a Kurt Cobain-style iconic post-death mega-celebrity status. It would be so stressful that my meds would stop working and I'd start having epileptic seizures.
Imagine the scene: stuck in prison writhing unconscious on the floor while your arch nemesis is mourned by the nation. Tributes on TV. Tacky merchandise. Statues in every town. I'd almost certainly hang myself with ripped up sheets or electrical cord I had to dig out of the wall with my fingernails. That's not a pleasant death.
That's what makes me angry.
*edit* Also, my parents thought it would be amusing to buy me his autobiography for Christmas. I always thought I would never sink so low as to burn books. I was so wrong.
(Fri 2nd May 2008, 15:12, More)