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From h2g2 The Return of "What Music Are You Listening To At This Precise Moment?"
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|  | Update |  | I am not yet quite dead. I am, however, no longer recognised by people in the street. I am also, apparently, terrifying.
Might go blonde and make the transformation complete...
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Shy entry
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Hiya chuck.......
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are you ok?
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The Emily Ultramarine Fan Club
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| In the hope of catching Emily lurking..
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Hullo
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Journal Entries
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| Welcome to this Researcher's Journal. If you'd like to comment on anything they have written here, just click the relevant 'Discuss this Entry' button. My Editor is in Cannes... May 19, 2004
...but I am not. I probably wouldn't like Cannes anyway: I don't agree with this sun and sand business. Or even this sun business. I am melting like a vanilla ice cream: all pale and sticky. Think I need a haircut.
Also have really good ideas for history paintings, a Saint Sebastian and a Judith and Holofernes, only in modern terms. Sebastian woud be in boxer shorts, tied to a bedpost, stuck with those suction-cup arrows kids use. This, I think, would be a marvellous painting, were it not for two things:
1. I shall probably be accused of blasphemy. 2. My proposed model said (and I quote): "not a snowball's chance in hell".
Puts a bit of a damper on the whole project, really.
In other news: I'm practically (well, for me, anyway) a skinny bird. Just waiting to see if certain bits of me disappear...
The Age of Reason. May 4, 2004
I am old. I am a twenty-something as of today. Not good.
Also happening:
My bike got nicked. Ex-boyfriend apparently bad-mouthing me to all and sundry. Git. Whole right side of my body injured in bizarre ways. V. painful.
The grave opens up before me like... a big whole in the ground...
All Tomorrow's Parties Feb 29, 2004
... are off. No more parties are to be held in my house, if I have anything to say about it. The usual happened - mess everywhere, people were pelted in lemons, people shagged in my bed. And to make it so much worse, my mate's boyfriend split my really expensive salt whilst downing half a bottle of tequila.
He wasn't so bright this morning.
Mr Anderson and Me Dec 12, 2003
I bit the bullet, fought the fear, and left my house on my own. Went to see Suede. Loverly. How many gigs do you go to where the band come on stage to the swelling tones of 'Jerusalem'?
I eat my words - Brett Anderson can still do the octave shifts. Well, most of the time. I suddenly saw the charm in him today I'd always missed. Perhaps I am getting old. All that bouncing reminded me of being thirteen and listening to 'The Beautiful Ones'. Aaah. If I'd thought ahead I wouldn't have worn Mary Janes and a flannel skirt. Most impractical for jumping up and down surrounded by sweating drunken people.
Other than that: still have no life. All friends are still at university or too busy having lives. Worrying rumour that I am dead circulating. Have nasty infected wounds on right arm and left leg, and can't raise left arm above head. Have great difficulty washing hair. It's a hard life, isn't it?
Thoughts for the Day Dec 4, 2003
Dead people don't need an education.
Ugly people are put here to make beautiful things.
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