Fashionistas. We don't need ya!

"if I spin my tails and sail. And sail away, let yesterday become today."

Last week I was situated in the computer department of the Future Shop located at Eg[g]lington and Yonge and found myself lusting over the iMac keyboard. Standing before its ergonomic beauty, I remember uttering an accidental “oh my god!”, aloud like dat! One of the employees picked up on this declaration and inquired on a few things. What I didn’t know is that you can attach an Apple keyboard to a PC. So the rest is history, really. I remember unwrapping the package whence I got home and I also remember that for some inexplicable reason, Apple keyboards have a distinctively pleasant smell. That’s fucked up but I shan’t harp on this weirdness being dictated in my journal. So I love my new keyboard very hard, with great force. *kisses/smells his keyboard*. I don’t know why I just wrote about my new keyboard but I know I JUST DID. Oh and to Bigprimp even further… two USB slots on the undersiiiiiide, fuck le quoi mawfuckahs?! ♥

I heart some of the members of The Republic of SAS. In the final 10 second countdown to the new year, I deduced that 2009 must be about the much appreciated care package. Last week greeted me with two packages received on the same day which could only be described as Christmas Deux. Double hugs go out to Marissa and Ian Scott McGregor (just because I like saying Ian Scott McGregor). The contents of these packages revealed a stockpile of Cadbury goodness – from Marissa (which reminds me of my youth roaming around St. Andrews Scotland, which is loooiiike, awesome) and an Oasis (holy fuck holy fuck holy fuck) Coin from Ian Scott McGregor. There’s too much to be said about these people. Collectively, they are both extremely positive people that do not dwell on negativity. They’re both incredibly intelligent, beautiful, sensible and caring individuals devoid of drama. I’m an avid fan of both and have much to learn. I must state the following; the oasis coin is to me what The Ring is to Gollum. I am, officially, the number one Oasis fan. The oasis coin is worth a LOT and I’m a bit clusterfucked that after 8 years of Ian Scott McGregor teasing me with the anticipation of sending it to me, he finally did. 200 Oasis coins have been made. It is the most highly revered Oasis memorabilia. The majority are presumed lost. Liam and Noel each have a coin, and now so do I. This (the coin) is now a family heirloom. You want it? You’ll have to either fucking lynch me or marry me, cos this fucking thing is with me always. Additionally, here’s a clip of Ian Scott McGregor on youtube (name dropping HOLLAH). It always makes me laugh. Look at him, presumably being frisked for his Oasis coin which is now under my protection. What a fucking dashingly handsome young man. ♥ to the both of you *celebratory dryhumps* and I promise my packages to be sent by the end of the month.

I won’t be getting the job. I needed to preface the following with that sentence to put everything else into proper context. Next week I have a job interview and the only reason I’m making mention of this is because this is the Big Time. It’s the Big League, boys and girls. I can’t reveal much in these public places. The job title is a little tricky but essentially it’s the combination of “Communications Director” and being a New Media “Creative”. The goal of the position is to bring forth Green Technologies (among other things) projects to fruition in both the Government arena and Private sectors (as I am to understand it?). The position appeals to me greatly because it combines my obsession with New Media/art with beauraucratic / administrative stuff that makes use of my, dare I say, intelligence/cognitive skills. I feel very honoured to be given an interview. I’m of the opinion to think I was given the interview because I have a B.A. in Communications, education & work experience in New Media (Digital Animation for example) and I used to have a job as a “Communications Officer” working for my former city. I won’t get the job because I lack the extensive years of experience required to get the job. I’ll most likely be the youngest person to be interviewed by them. So why am I going to the interview if I won't get the job? To LEARN. Oh, the job pays extremely fucking well. Which is to say that if – one in a million chance – I get the job, my first paycheque is being delegated towards renting out the top and basement floors of the Duke of York. Drinks on me! Here’s how wild it’d get; Top floor is reserved for pub fare/drinks/scrabble & Table Tennis Tournaments. The basement floor would be for darts, drinking and talking all sorts’o’shit. WILD. Everyone’s invited, I’ll even extend this sentiment to some of you acerbic snipping dickheads who are so bold enough to impute such disdain for me. I figure, how better ought I show my affection for you than p4wning your ass, double hard, at table tennis/scwwaaabo ♥

zOMG, you people need to buy/acquire the following albums; Band: The Airborn Toxic Event Album: The Airborne Toxic Event AND Band: Friendly Fires Album: Friendly Fires. Too fucking glorious *drools* I recently added myself to last.fm. Why didn’t you dicks tell me about this site? Add me at your leisure/pleasure/measure/sure bababababababab boop; http://www.last.fm/user/emperor3d

The new Jamie Oliver Magazine is a godsend. You’ll never have a need to buy his books to get recipes, ever again. Whut[ski] ♥

Is everyone having a nice time? Y’alright? Y’alright? Y’alright? Y’alright? 2009 is off to a bang! Today Barack [G]Obama becomes the President of The United States. That’s happening. Tomorrow is the 3 hour Season 5 premier of Lost (has a minigasm in his pants) and the next day is Series 3 Premiere of Skins (OMGWTF!!). It’s ALL popping along at a hundred milllion miles per hour. ! I’m now going to enclose a short playlist of songs that will either A. Make you fucking happy like FTW or B. Make you dance dance dance or C. Both. If after listening to these songs, you’re not happier than you were previously, state so and I’ll make you happy INSTANTLY. I FUCKING PROMISE. In the words of Fyodor Mikhaylovich Dostoyevsky "I'm out, bitches!"

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Current Mood: dancy dancy dancy
Current Music: Heaven For The Weather -- The Streets

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