Oh ladies, ladies....

....Am horrified by telly programme containing interview with 25 year old woman who had been "looking for a husband for nine years".

Actual quote:
"What kind of man are you looking for?"
"One who can speak English".

Makes me sad, and do not understandeth. Wanting to be 'a wife'?

But then again, am not the type of girl one would take home for Sunday dinner to meet the parents, so perhaps I shall never understand.

For no-strings, performance-enhancing sex, please contact Annette at Goodtimepartygirls-R-Us.

I wanted to control it....

Have you ever come across a song that just seems to have been written for you, and you alone? As though someone crawled inside your brain, muddled through the fuzz and disparate nonsense, and translated it all into beautiful lyrics that express exactly how you feel?


I'm going on a date tonight
To try to fall out of love with you
I know, I know this is a crime
But I don't know what else to do

My love, you're in a magazine
My love, you're doing fine, you're on TV
You pull my heart out then you run away
From Chicago to Cleveland you leave me pain
You leave me pain

When you're lucid you're the sweetest thing
I would trade my mother to hear you sing
When you're lucid you're thee sweetest thing
I would trade my mother


The Sweetest Thing
Camera Obscura, My Maudlin Career, 2009


Goodness. Some days I really depress myself. Scrap the above.
This illustrates my mood much more accurately:


Someone left a cake out in the rain
I don't think that I can take it
Because it took so long to bake it
And I'll never have that recipe again