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Dear Anon,
Imagine my surprise this morning on opening my inbox to find I had been given a permanent account! Umm, blimey!
My first, somewhat churlish, response was ‘why would someone spend that much on me and not buy me shoes / a tasty posh dinner / a night out on the gin / some serious getting Well Mash Up on shopping’, which was a little harsh of me.
My second, somewhat impish, response was ‘hahaha now I’m going to delete my account’, accompanied by evil grin.
My third, possibly more considered, response is to think wow! Someone obviously likes my online presence enough to want to make sure I stay around, and I am now feeling genuinely touched. Look, my reactivated Paul icon up there somewhere ^^^ is saying it better :)
So thank you kindly, whoever you are! Umm, comments are screened and anon enabled and non-bugged if you want to say anything further.
Lotsalove,
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
shewho
***
Last night then, to see the mighty We Are Klang at the Pleasance, in the form of a Dick Party (I’m so keeping *that* ticket stub!) aka a clip show type affair of bits of previous shows. I love Klang with my heart. I love their shambolic corpsing and their joyous silliness and filth and I can watch them again and again and again aaaaaah. Monkeys and AIDS and musicals ARE good for comedy, hell yeah.
Unfortunately I had back issues which I combated (successfully) with a combination of painkillers, white wine, and cheesy chips, which led to me getting over excited about my magnetic pointy stick again, and being obnoxious to my nearest and dearest. Ack.
Even more unfortunately, I appear to have left the bodice I was making for Green Feet on a bus. The number 63, I think. WOE!!!! I guess that puts the kibosh on that then. Skirt and collar and not much else. Well, something I own already. I am AN IDIOT.
***
ETA: do you want to stay screened, secret anon? I still don't know who you are, and you've cunningly disguised yourself vocabulary-wise innit...
Imagine my surprise this morning on opening my inbox to find I had been given a permanent account! Umm, blimey!
My first, somewhat churlish, response was ‘why would someone spend that much on me and not buy me shoes / a tasty posh dinner / a night out on the gin / some serious getting Well Mash Up on shopping’, which was a little harsh of me.
My second, somewhat impish, response was ‘hahaha now I’m going to delete my account’, accompanied by evil grin.
My third, possibly more considered, response is to think wow! Someone obviously likes my online presence enough to want to make sure I stay around, and I am now feeling genuinely touched. Look, my reactivated Paul icon up there somewhere ^^^ is saying it better :)
So thank you kindly, whoever you are! Umm, comments are screened and anon enabled and non-bugged if you want to say anything further.
Lotsalove,
shewho***
Last night then, to see the mighty We Are Klang at the Pleasance, in the form of a Dick Party (I’m so keeping *that* ticket stub!) aka a clip show type affair of bits of previous shows. I love Klang with my heart. I love their shambolic corpsing and their joyous silliness and filth and I can watch them again and again and again aaaaaah. Monkeys and AIDS and musicals ARE good for comedy, hell yeah.
Unfortunately I had back issues which I combated (successfully) with a combination of painkillers, white wine, and cheesy chips, which led to me getting over excited about my magnetic pointy stick again, and being obnoxious to my nearest and dearest. Ack.
Even more unfortunately, I appear to have left the bodice I was making for Green Feet on a bus. The number 63, I think. WOE!!!! I guess that puts the kibosh on that then. Skirt and collar and not much else. Well, something I own already. I am AN IDIOT.
***
ETA: do you want to stay screened, secret anon? I still don't know who you are, and you've cunningly disguised yourself vocabulary-wise innit...
