| it's only you, beautiful...Or I don't want anyone...If I can choose, It's only you |
[30 Jun 2004|11:20pm] |
| [ |
mood |
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 addicted |
] |
| [ |
music |
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the no seatbelt song - brand new |
] |
The kinder surprise
An innocent childhood snack
or something much more sinister?*
Priced at only 50p, with what every child demands, chocolate and toys, the kinder surprise seem like an ideal solution to all your "if my child does not shut up I will be purchasing a shot gun” needs. But are these snacks made to help distressed parents... or merely scar the children... both physically and mentally for years to come? Are these snacks the work of a modern day saint... or a twisted and bitter individual who should be removed from society immediately?
The Physical effects:
As can be expected the kinder surprise has a high sugar content. This will inevitably lead to tooth decay, as the young sugar hyped and toyful mind does not bother with such things as teeth brushing. This decay will lead to blackened teeth and unsightly gaps. As childhood is a time of being cuter than thou, these physical inadequacies can seriously affect a child’s self-confidence. Having your confidence destroyed at such a young ages is sure to lead to problems which continue even to your adult years. Also, the actual kinder surprise toy is surrounded by a protective egg. This protective egg is impossible to open with hands, and one must often resort to using teeth. Naturally such pressure on the young tooth could lead to all sorts of horrible incidents. Again affecting the youngsters’ self-confidence.
The mental effect:
As if the mental trauma of being enable to remove something you are so desperate for from the box is not bad enough (experiencing a feeling of inadequacy most of us do not experience to our early teens), these toys are also impossible to build. For example the "coyote" toys, in particular the motorcycle coyote. One of these toys were so badly manufactured that it took 2 higher craft and d pupils, and a small sharp object to make it fit. If 2 mature and intelligentteenagers have difficulty building this toy, then what hope has a small child? The quality of the toy must also be called into question. Shortly after the grueling toy building process was completed, my toy broked. Experiencing such an unexpected loss of something you worked so hard on will surely turn the child bitter, leading to a super generation of overly cynical and whiny adults. We are eradicating the good, justified cynical... and replacing it with... well me. But yes...
Another mental factor, which must be taking into consideration, is the disturbing nature of the toy. For example, the clown rocker and giant bug.
clown rocker: it involves clowns. Really.... must anymore be said?
Giant bug The giant bug is a small head attached to the kinder surprise egg, the wings on this poor bug will not feasibly carry it any distance, should it even attempt it, it will die a horrible and painful death. This leads the child to realise that the Bug will live a miserable existence, until; it eventually flies to end its awful life. Again, showing the loss and pain of the world at an early age.
In conclusion, the kinder surprise is indeed a surprise. It surprises the innocent child by destroying its physical appearance, it surprise the innocent child by showing it all the cruelty and malice of the world. This awful surprise must be taken off the shelves
Or alternatively banned for all those under 16, reduced to 30p, and sold in a buy one get one free.
*Note: the anti kinder surprise opinions expressed in the following entry have everythingnothing to do with my costly addiction.
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| This is all wrong... and it shows... |
[04 Jun 2004|05:25pm] |
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mood |
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 educational |
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music |
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Bike scene- taking back sunday |
] |
A guide to Lauran:
As discussed in previous live journal entries there are a variety of Laurans. Learning which Lauran is operating at which particular time, and therefore what comments and behaviour is appropriate is vital in surviving.
In this comprehensive guide, we will be concentrating on the most dangerous variety of Lauran.... "Morning Lauran". Not only will we will give you an in-depth guide to recognising the various types, but we will also provide you with information on how to protect yourself and "common" phrases.
As the name may suggest “morning Lauran’s” are most likely to encountered in the early hours of the day, however morning Lauran side effects can also last to early afternoon, and therefore one must be able to recognise the signs.
"I have been up early to finish an English essay which granted I should have done last night but that would be to simple.... and err correct.... no no... I'll just get up at 5 in the morning" Lauran:
signs: This Lauran can be recognised from her unusually happy demeanour, she will most likely smile upon first greeting her. This is due to the confusion within Lauran's body clock, which believes it to be afternoon as she has been up so long.
preventory measures: Although this Lauran is generally harmless, she must be kept away from clocks at all costs. Should she see a clock she will realise it is in fact not the afternoon. And morph into "Sleep deprived" Lauran.
common phrases:"I have been up since 5 this morning... how hardcore am I?"
Sleep deprived Lauran
signs: This particular Lauran is the easiest to spot, however is often confused with "I am in a bad mood" Lauran. "Sleep deprived" Lauran will not smiled upon first greeting her. If you are unfortunate enough to be intolerably cheery you will endure more than her normal dose of sarcasm
preventory measures: This Lauran should be avoided at all costs, however if this is impossible, one should avoid smiling/talking/laughing, or acting in any manner that may be considered to loud or too happy.
common phrase:member I said when I finally snap and give up my pacifist ways your at the top of my "people to kill list".... snapping point is any time about now., Just so you have a head start."
I was running Late Lauran
signs: "I was running late Lauran" will arrive upon the scene looking unnaturally stressed, after making the mistake of asking her what is the matter she will begin to divulge all of this mornings activities, from a lamp landing on her, to having to run to school, ending with "I was running late". This is the most common type of Lauran, as here she is shown it her full "ditziness"
Preventory measures: "I was running late" Lauran is the easiest of all Lauran’s to handle. Just give her lots of sympathy. However beware... should your sympathy not be adequate she will become "grumpy" morning Lauran
common phrases:"I am not having a good morning... I slept in and then I couldn't find my plays... and so I spent a good 15 minutes looking for them...found them in my sisters box... only to realise I had no drama today...so I went to take them out my bag so I didn't end up with a hernia... and I knocked over the lamp and it hit my fairy snow globe and broke it... and I had o clean it up... and I didn't have time to make my bed.... and ... I had to run to school. I was running late...."
Post gig Lauran
signs: Post gig Lauran will be enable to communicate in a coherent manner, she will rely on the word "amazing" to make any sort of verbal contact. Most of this refusal to communicate is due to in inability to here. It is also due to delirium inducing happiness. She has as one might say... reached "Nirvana".
preventory measures: This Lauran will not have basic motor/memory functions, and therefore should not be given any sort of necessary information. One should try and pass any vital instruction onto post gig evening Lauran, who will be slightly more capable of handling this. Post gig Lauran should be kept away from anyone who will exploit her vulnerability for their own capital gain, unless you are the type of person who does this. In this case post gig Lauran does not think and will therefore give you money
common phrases:"amazing..."
I hope that this guide has helped you to under stand the complex mood swings of one teenage girl. I would like to point out that these are only the morning moods, and therefore if the advice does not work in the afternoon or evening, I cannot be help accountable.
Happy being aliveness.
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| you can feel my lips undress your eyes... Skin can feel my lips they tingle - tense anticipation... |
[25 May 2004|02:58pm] |
| [ |
mood |
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 dying |
] |
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music |
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darts of pleasure- Franz Ferdinand |
] |
I am confused
So terribly confused.
Today I attempted to be mature and self sufficient
To not bother my poor work worn father still in bed from the night shift
And feed myself
Those of you that know me know my experiences with the cooker in the past have not be…
In my favour
As the pink scar on my arm may suggest
However I decided to brave it
To face my demons
So I went to the cupboard
And fetched the “pasta and sauce”
I read the instructions carefully
And fetched myself a pot
I read the instructions again
And fetched myself a jug
I took my jug
And fetched myself some water
I poured my water in the pot
And fetched myself some milk
I poured my milk in the pot
And fetched myself 2 spoons….
And then came the butter
125 grams of butter
So I fetched myself a tub of butter
And set it down
And took my spoon
And set it down
And I took the lid off the butter
And stared at it
“Exactly how much is 125 grams?” I asked Mr Butter
But he just stood and looked at me
Yellow and inanimate
turning to my much more polite spoon I asked
“Excuse Mr Spoon (all kitchen utensils are fundamentally evil… and therefore male)
“How much is 125 grams?”
Mr Spoon just winked in my direction under the kitchen light
Determined I searched the butter tub for some signs of directions
For example
take about 1/18th of the tub and you have yourself an ounce”
but no.
and so I searched the spoon for some sign of directions…
as kitchen utensils are also liars and trickster and like to hide things
but no
And so I stood
Broken
Dejected
Bitter
And above all
Hungry…
In today’s society a major problem is unhealthy eating,
However I am beginning to understand why so many people eat unhealthy
The government bang on about pasta and fresh fruit
And here I am
A teenager
Their main target
Attempting to eat pasta
But failing because of overly complicated and home ec type instructions
I am being punished for asserting my rights as a feminists and refusing to learn how to cook
I m being punished for being a teenager and therefore being poorly educated in culinary manners
And so…
Like all teenagers in this predicament
I turn to my good old stand by
The chocolate bar
And so the evil chain of unhealthy eating goes on…
Junk food manufacturers will soon realise that no teenager can cook
And therefore there will be a generation of adults who can only eat chocolate and crips
Walkers will put less crisps in a bag (if this is actually possible) so that the consumer has to purchase more to fill themselves up
Cadbury will raise their rather reasonable prices
And the balance of power will change from government to chocolatier
And anarchy will ensue
Until eventually our bodies sugar crash
And then we will quickly try and purchase some sort of fresh food
But I will still not be able to cook anything but toast
Because of confusing instructions left on the few packets still in circulation
And my parent in their early 70’s shall just mock me
Oh how they will mock me
And so I will die.
Broken
Dejected
Bitter
And above all…
Hungry…
It was the butter bit what confused me
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| They don’t love you like I love you…. |
[12 May 2004|05:45pm] |
| [ |
mood |
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 nostalgic |
] |
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music |
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maps- yeah yeah yeah's |
] |
This afternoon was my last afternoon as a rebel
My last afternoon as the girl that realised that there was more to life than computing
Than constant testing
Than having every single word spelled out
Than being told that if one can run a marathon in a minute then one could do several questions
Than never being allowed to pack up before the bell because your teacher genuinely believes that if you can run a marathon in a minute than you answer several questions
Than not eating at lunchtimes so you could finish totally useless programmes
Programs to calculate people’s ages
Programs to calculate peoples shopping bills
Programs to calculate the area of a square.
Should these programs be in any way useful in later life then yes
Take my lunchtime and take it gladly
It is a small price to for a future of success
Of living out metaphors by sleeping on money
Of being the irony rather than just appreciating it
But no.
The programs were useless
And so I left
And I was put in the int2 class
For my “work ethos’s were bad”
For I was ”irresponsible”
For I would “effect them in the most detrimental manner”
And I was a rebel
Oh what a rebel
But I was an inspiration rebel
Seeing how joyous no computing could make you several, int2’s left the computing community
And we were shunned by the teachers
Blamed for the depleting class
For they could not accept that we triggered a desire that was already there
That computing just pushed too hard
That they just expected too much
That it was just too boring
That they did not reward their pupils nearly enough
With msn
Or day trips to Internet cafes
Or computer related films such as “hackers”
Or Chinese food (the choice of every hardcore computer user)
But still I persevered
Still I laughed
And so my talk to Jack study period went on
But now I approach the exams
The evil papers of doom
And when I return I will be a 6th year
6th years are allowed a socialise in the common room study period
They are encouraged to take a socialise in the common room study period
And so I will be doing what is recommended
I will once again be conforming to the ways of high school administration
And all that will be left of my rebel days is a few pieces of propaganda and some fading writing on my bag…
Good Bye rebel Lauran
I will miss you
Oh how I will miss you…
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| You know I cherish you my love...how i cherish you my love... |
[18 Apr 2004|06:47pm] |
| [ |
mood |
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 Immature |
] |
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music |
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The libertines - time for heroes |
] |
Sometimes I worry about my mentality
It is an exceptionally odd mentality
I would go as far as to say that it was one of a 5 year old
Although that is a mild insult to 5 year olds globally
And when 5 year olds rebel…
We must worry
For violent 5 years is scary stuff
Over viewing of the tweenies and other tweenie wannabe programmes has
led to a generation of super children, it normally take a good twelve
years and the in kick of hormones to become cynical moody and violent,
to realise that all the happy movies you were forced to watch as a
child are lies and fabrications but these super
children have made this realisation by a year, so cynical, moody and
violent wise they are on par with your average 16 year old.
Therefore for legal (because being cynical and sarcastic also makes you
an exceptionally good lawyer) I shall change it to 4 year olds
4 year olds are the same level as your average 15 year old
and being 16 this means I have had far more practice
I sometimes wonder why people do not think I am logical
I am clearly logical.
The despair caused by cheesy children’s programs is a serious
understudied psychological phenomenon, the fact that I have reached
this conclusion without the aid of some sort of PHD shows how obviously
logical I am.
I do believe that I was more sophisticated when I was 5 than I am now.
I was somewhat tomboyish.
Rebelling against the idea I should be pretty in pink
And now I am supposed to mature.
So naturally I am rebelling against that.
I am reliving my childhood.
Reliving your childhood is fun
You get to like fairies
You get to like Disney
You get be hyperactive
And dance to 80’s music
And so as part of Lauran relives her childhood experiment I played dress up.
Yes… dress up.
Think a four year old playing with her mothers make up and a cool hat.
And by golly you’ve got it.
( what happens when a 16 year old plays dress up )
Farewell
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| You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be and I don't want to go home right now... |
[10 Apr 2004|01:04am] |
| [ |
mood |
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 fat |
] |
| [ |
music |
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Iris - goo goo dolls |
] |
I have always been a fan of Chinese food.
It is tasty
And filling
And somewhat healthy
If you take away the chips
And egg fried rice
And general foodness
So today Cheryl and me decided we would order some Chinese.
However we were not prepared for the insane amounts that we did not order that would be given to us
Between me and Cheryl (both 5”2 at most) we ate
* 1 breast of chicken curry chopped
* 1 chicken and mushroom
* Egg fried rice
* Chicken balls (which were in fact whole chickens covered in batter)
* Chips (which we did not order, but which were forced upon us)
* Prawn crackers
* Easter eggs
and more recently
* A chocolate éclair
We also drank overly sugared coke.
As proud as I am of our achievement I am also somewhat worried
For I can no longer do up the top button of my jeans
This might have a detrimental effect on my life
As if these jeans do not fit
None of my clothes will.
Therefore I cannot leave my house
Therefore I cannot visit my friend
Or attend mandatory education
Therefore I have no life
And all childhood dreams of being a poor bohemian indie cult actress, who marries a rich man kills him and/or sells out to commercial romantic comedy success, will never be realised
And I will die bitter and lonely
And I will not even have cats because I cannot go to the shops to get whiskers.
I do not want that.
If you do not see me for a few days please bring me jeans.
Big jeans.
Possibly mans jeans.
I shall be forever grateful.
Farewell
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| You could be my unintended choice to live my life extended…You could be the one I'll always love… |
[07 Apr 2004|02:52pm] |
| [ |
mood |
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 determined |
] |
| [ |
music |
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unintended - Muse |
] |
I worry for the population of Glasgow
Well perhaps not the good area of Glasgow
But those of use who are unfortunate to come from the sunless east end are in grave danger
For there is a force
A force that will destroy us all
And that force is…
The taxi driver.
For the taxi driver population of Glasgow are in fact insane
To prove my point I shall use 3 case studies.
Taxi driver 1: Taxi driver one was ordered by mother, passed off as a friends of my dad I already knew he would be somewhat odd… however me and Cheryl were not prepared for what was in store. Taxi driver 1’s ( as we can not name him for legal reasons) problems began when we discovered that the seatbelts in his car did in fact not work, And he himself was not wearing one, as if this was that bad enough the taxi driver drove at 100…. Slowing down slightly to take corners at about 60… Should Syme become a Taxi driver in later life, this man will become his guru.
Taxi driver 2 Although taxi driver 2 was in fact not my taxi driver, and was a very “sweet old man”, he was in fact a compulsive liar.
Therefore.
Evil.
taxi driver 3 Taxi driver 3 started by taking half an hour to come, despite being situated round the corner. He then followed this up by being drunken and mildly aggressive. He did not attempt to make conversation and so I sat in the back of the taxi singing “build me up buttercup” for when life throws you alcoholic taxi drivers, build me up buttercup is the only answer.
In conclusion the Average Glaswegian taxi driver it mad. Having once had a taxi driving father I can sympathise with the plight of the 18 hour shift, in which you are forced to pick up screaming children, moaning women, ad carry shopping bag after shopping bag for a menial tip. This has had a detrimental effect on many of these upstanding men, who once upon a time smiled and were social. We must help these taxi drivers; I suggest counselling and bigger tips. If we do not address this problem now it will end in us all using buses and we know how unhinged the bus community is.
Help a taxi driver today
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| All we ever wanted was love and love and happy afternoons… |
[28 Mar 2004|12:08pm] |
| [ |
mood |
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 hyper |
] |
| [ |
music |
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All we ever needed - The Early november |
] |
I hate it when people say don’t come to early.
Especially people you don’t know.
Like people that work in shops.
And say you can pick something up but you’ve not to come too early.
How early exactly is too early?
Too early for me is any time before 2
Because if you come any time before 2 you are most likely to find me unfed, sitting in my jammie on the computer
Unless it’s a school day, in which case I will be fed, in my school uniform and not in the house.
Too early for my mum is anytime before 9 o’clock.
Because before 9 o’clock the house isn’t tidy.
My mum cleans too much.
According to her if I just cleaned up after myself I wouldn’t need to clean half as much
According to me if she just stayed out my room she wouldn’t have too worry about how much mess I make.
I think one day my messiness might cause her to have a mental breakdown.
And then I will feel guilty.
I would clean it in my own time.
But that’s not technically true… if my mum doesn’t tell me to clean my room, my sister refuses to clean her half.
I can only stay in my messy room so long before I have homework to procrastinate from and so begin to tidy.
And then we have one side as neat as can be expected from me and one side that resembles a jumble sale after the grannies have been at it.
And too early for those grannies is 6 o’clock in the morning.
Because as soon as the shops open that’s time enough for them
The clocks going forward has made this all terribly confusing.
Because then too early is an hour later than it was before.
I hate it when the clocks go forward.
I hate losing an hour of sleep
And there really is no point in putting them forward anymore.
Ok, we get an extra hour of daylight
But that hasn’t really mattered since the world wars, when this whole thing was introduced.
It could be seen as tradition.
But any tradition that does not involve the giving of presents and/or chocolate is bad.
We should move on and stop living in the past.
I think I am going to start an anti clock-moving petition.
Think how confusing it must be for the poor clocks. Not knowing whether they are telling the right time. That kind of uncertainty could get them mocked by the other clocks. There would be a rise in clock bullying
And they don’t have clock-line.
Won’t someone think of the poor clocks?
Or at least the children.
Even though I don’t like children.
Well it’s mostly that children don’t like me.
And when I try to prove the point they don’t like me, they gang together in a conspirital manner and smile at me.
I have only ever met 2 babies who have liked me without it clearly being a plot to make me look like an idiot.
One sat across from me, offered me a cheese dipper and asked me where I was going.
She was like 2.
I told her I was going to work experience, and she asked to come.
My mum says it’s all the black.
She also says I don’t have one ounce of maternal instinct.
But that will change when I am older.
My cousin just had a baby. And I went to visit her.
My aunty tried to get me to hold the baby and I said no.
Mostly because I didn’t want to.
But also because I was terrified I would drop the baby.
According the them I was “Feart ye'll get smitted”
I worry that my aunty talks like she is in men should weep.
I suppose in spite of this we should think of the children.
I used to hate it when you had to go to bed and it was still light out.
If we didn’t move the clocks it would still be light out when they went to bed, since I cannot control the sun
But it would be as light out.
We would be helping poor stressed parents.
We would save marriages/
clocks being moved are leading to an increase in clock bullying and wrecking lives
We must stop this evil practice
Lauranthedebater.com
Farewell
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| From here I can hardly see a thing...But I will follow anyone who brings me to you... |
[18 Mar 2004|06:07pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 scared |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
a song for sunshine- Dan Andriano |
] |
Tomorrow I depart for stratford
This equals uber cool for stratford is shakespeare land and it is my dreams and aspirations to be like Shakespeare
Or at least live in Elizabethan times.
Then the way I talk would be considered normal.
And I could dress in the most spectacular manner.
I wish to dress like that.
I also wish to cavort in woods and meet fairy queen
In fact I would be the fairy queen
The well spoken, prettily dressed, magical fairy queen.
And although would be hated I would cool
Oh so cool
And prettily dressed. So clearly it would not matter that I was hated, in fact I would be hated purely because I would be well dressed, and the other fairies/mere/mortals would be jealous.
I should write plays.
I told my the french assistant I wanted to be a playwright,
Mostly because I can say it in French
And she insists we talk French.
Funny that…
She walked in today and saw me reading the Donnie Darko script book and an interesting conversation that Vicki will be proud of ensued.
Me *hiding book because I am en fait supposed to be studying* um… hehe… I'm not um reading..
Random French women (aka elizabeth, for apparently it is spelt like that. You just don’t pronounce the th sound. Damn logic. I am still calling her random French women call me john Mcgrath but I like to refer to people by their purpose. And hers is in fact to be a random French women): I just want to see the author.
Me: Oh no. it’s not a novelisation. It’s just the script book.
Random French woman: ahh… my friend keeps telling me to watch it. He really loved it. It seems… um… “special”.
Me: Tis uberly cool. You should watch it. You would really like it.
And so in a matter of weeks the French women shall be converted.
But now to the matter in hand
For there in fact a matter
This is no ramble.
Stratford.
There is un tres grand down side.
Stratford is haunted
Terribly terribly haunted.
It is haunted by scorned lovers who inspired romeo and Juliet who will most likely kill us for we are young and hopeful
Some what cynical
But hopeful
And we have yet to become inbittered about love.
For bitterness takes time.
Someone also thew themselves off the balcony in the theatre,
The youth hostel (yes. The youth hostel, for our school are in fact cheap and we need to stay in a youth hostel, even if it is the hostel all the rich kids run away to with it’s edwardian mansion thing going on.?
Therefore I will prolly die.
A ghost like death.
Which granted will be original.
However also sad.
For it would be depriving me of irony, and irony is my only wish,
Well it is one of my many wishes.
But still.
Deprivation = bad.
I shall never see you again.
I want to bid you all…
Farewell.
Lauranisscared.com
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| will you be my best friend if I offer you my heart? cause it's already yours… |
[17 Mar 2004|06:47pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 calm |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
I.O.U. one galaxy- The Ataris |
] |
I am petrified.
In fact I am beyond petrified but my vocabulary is limited. I am after all the girl that brought you the sentence
“ The atmosphere is tense”
Oki. I lie. I borrow that from Vicki. That sentence is so primary7… I have yet to reach that level of coherency.
But I am suffering from strong feelings of fear none the less
Why I ask you?
All those who are unfortunate enough to se moi on a daily basis may have heard of my younger sister.
She is small, blonde, and she is often called mini Lauran.
Despite the fact I am short and brunette
However this does not stop my illogical friends, who insist we loom alike
Or her illogical friends who like to follow me shouting “Liane's big sister” until I crack and finally turn round and in a uber polite manner say “yes?”
“Oh my god you look like her”
“Oh my god you sound like her”
Oh my god you walk like her”
”No. She looks like me. She talks like me. She walks like me.”
“oh my god, you pure do the same actions as her”
I give up. There really is no talking to 13 year olds.
However even by my own friends call me Liane’s big sister.
As you may know… my youngest sister mocks me. However she also copies me.
Why I have never quite grasped.
For I am not cool. And in order to succeed she should strive to copy those that are cool.
But she does not.
She copies me.
My music.
My hair.
My clothes.
However this is fine… fine. Because Liane is everything Lauran was when she was 14.
Except she likes alkaline trio.
But today it reached a brand new level of weirdness.
Today I went on to my computer to discover my sister had been listening to…
The postal service.
This is indeed the type of band my younger sister mocks,
\And mocks heartily.
I fear that she has in fact progressed to the level when she is 16 year old Lauran, this new found interest combined with that fact she has began buying cords, leads me to believe she may in fact progress beyond 16 year old Lauran, to 18 year old Lauran, and then I will never be original,
However I shall get to see myself at 18
Which would save me time, effort, and a few fashion disasters,
But still.
It is uber weird.
I live with myself.
She has even began copying my behaviour
My behaviour
This has led my mother and father to become mad at me, as she has not only began to copy some of my quirks
But also my sarcastic attitude.
Apparently one me is enough. They do not want another one.
Apparently I have to be a good example. Not let her think I get away with being sarcastic. And cynical. And anti enthusiasm.
I have made this quite clear.
Abundantly so.
And yet she persists.
She has also started liking the 80’s.
And 80’s pop.
I can understand her copying music that could be construed as good.
Music that is strangely acceptable.
Loud, rebellious teenage music.
Or sad depressing teenage music
But 80’s pop?
I think not.
And yet my parents still like her better than me.
She is indeed the nicer daughter
The more social daughter.
The more enthusiastic, family orientated daughter.
I should be proud she copying me.
It means I can make sure she is indeed, a quirky weird individual,
Plus she has started telling me stuff.
And I can help her.
Being older and wiser than she is,
My sister has one sumptuous life, her “love life” is so book worthy,
I think I will encourage her to write a novel.
Fine. Okies. Despite my rantage I do in fact love my uber cool sister
Damn emotions.
I shall one day find a way to rid my self of them, and then I may scowl all the time, and never feel guilty.
I have started seriously abusing enter. I guess it is because it is rad.
Like Duran Duran.
Who I am going to see. If my dad ever stop laughing enough to give me his credit card.
How cool am I?
Lauranthe80s-kid.com
Farewell
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| Love songs can be stupid but for you, kid I will sing a mushy love song… |
[15 Mar 2004|06:20pm] |
| [ |
mood |
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 drained |
] |
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music |
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mushy love song- tsunami bomb |
] |
I am beyond words and comprehension.
Prod me and I will go “wow”
Smile and me and I will list every song they played
Go as far as to try and talk to me I will discuss in depth the events of the evening. Right from running down the street slasher flick style to being kicked in the face by one of the many crowd surfers. One of which also landed on my head. It is possible I shall veer off and start rambling about nice people. Nice people who very kindly helped Ms Amanda get her hat signed, nice people who gave me their water as I could not reach it, and nice person who helped me up from the floor when the whole crowd decided it would be fun to fall to the left, thusly saving me from a “I have been knocked to the floor and I am about to be trampled on by the insane boy who has continuously banged in to me, and stood on my foot on several occasions, why can he not be content to just jump up and down like a normal person, and furthermore why was I stuck behind him, I am only small. Small I tell you.” Type death. I would not have minded this type death, had reel big fish been on, however they had not. And although I love irony, oh the irony, and hope one day to die a highly ironic death, it was nether the time, nor the place. Despite a few near death experiences the evening was un grand success. A mixture of jumping up and down and having water poured on me at random intervals caused me to develop ringlets. I felt very porcelain doll. The bands decided it would be fun to throw alcohol on us so I smelled like beer..Provoking an interesting conversation with my father, in which he condoned alcohol usage, despite the fact I think alcohol is icky, and I am rebelling by not rebelling. I could not speak/breath. And reel big fish = kwfaghatmehWOW. With caps. A highly unusual event in Lauran literature, for Lauran is not a fan of things that convey enthusiasm. Except bold because bold is highly underrated. And everything looks better in bold.. Fish de la reel played half of cheer up and all the classic, including most of Lauran’s favourites, causing her to jump around some more. I like jumping around. It is fun. And also underrated, many things are underrated. Including underratedness. Reel big fish also played over, and had a party on stage.. Being the last night of the tour they were uber excited. And called us rad. I like the word rad. I did in fact adopt the word rad last week, with all its descriptive glory. I did not get home till 12. This is not late but it was a school night and makes me feel cool. I have now run out of steam, mostly because word has crashed 12 times and I have had to rewrite this. A lot.
I love entries with convenient conclusions rather than those just fade away… too bad I cannot write them.
Lauranisdazed.com
Farewell
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| I've never been in love like this... |
[14 Mar 2004|01:41pm] |
| [ |
mood |
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 excited |
] |
| [ |
music |
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ban the tube top- Reel Big Fish |
] |
Today I am jumping around like a small child.
A small child on irn bru.
Lots of irn bru.
And pixies sticks.
For one cannot forget the hyperactive power of the immortal and slightly immoral pixie stick.
My dear mother and father have been yelling at me since I graced them with my presence at 8 o’clock this morning
However I do not care.
Sleep deprivation has made my head all fuzzy.
And slightly dizzy.
And why am I sleep deprived?
And why am I a 5 year old on various sugary things, rather than my normal 5 year old with a Barbie doll?
For this evening I am off to see reel big fish
The one and only
Magnificently ironic
Reel big fish.
If you see me in the next week it is more than likely the only words you shall get from me is “amazing”. Like post alkaline trio Lauran.
I apologise for all of those that will have to see me tomorrow morning, with my ears ringing and eyes all bagful.
On the plus side I shall have une grande sourire. And will probably give you money if you ask me. I do believe I shall avoid Liam… who not only hates me but likes to ask me for money.
But I do not care. For I am terribly terribly excited.
And I have a kinder surprise toy.
What more can a girl ask for?
Laurantherhetoricalquestionasker.com
...Farewell
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| hopelessly I'll love you endlessly…hopelessly I'll give you everything but I won't give you up... |
[08 Mar 2004|06:16pm] |
| [ |
mood |
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 impressed |
] |
| [ |
music |
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endlessly- Muse |
] |
I do believe I am more like me Gran than I care to imagine. However this okies, because my Gran = cool.
Terribly terribly cool.
And random
And sarcastic,
And mildly cynical.
My Gran = all I wish to be when I am her age.
Unfortunately I shall have no grandchildren to impart my great wisdom and old lady coolness on to so I shall have to kidnap some.
And then impart until my heart is content.
And then they shall impart.
And old lady coolness shall live on
And we shall break down the barriers of ageism
And live in peace, love and quipage,
Quoteagran.com
On Steven: “you know something… see the way that boy wears his hood, that’s the way muggers wear their hood when they’re running away from the police. You watch that boy”
On me standing at the close:“ know something… if that was me standing down at that close I would make them tidy that so it was nice and I wasn’t standing in the weeds…nice looking wee boy isn’t he?”
On being called cool: “cool? Aye. Well I always went for nice looking boys when I was young. But you’ve got to make sure there is something nice about them too. Your grandpa was a good-looking man… That’s why your daddy is nice looking… of course he knows it…. Aye… well when I was young I used to stand in the close… not outside in the freezing cold”
…Farewell
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| we stared so long and you kissed me with ripe young breath so i kissed you one night as forever.... |
[05 Mar 2004|05:47pm] |
| [ |
mood |
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 thoughtful |
] |
| [ |
music |
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after the movies- cursive |
] |
The box of doom
12 things that I would put in a box to show someone I had never met
summing yourself up in 12 items is hard
The box must be bright pink.
1. the divine secrets of the Lauran not so sisterhood (which has all my gig tickets, and random bits of paper that I find amusing)
2. A pair of cords and a doc marten
3. My old bear…. Aptly named… old bear.
4. A picture of Marilyn Monroe.
5. My broadband bill
6. A book of Sylvia Plath poems with “spinster” highlighted
7. A mixtape with many a song. (Which must include dead or alive… you spin me right round)
8. A guitar earring
9. A blunt pencil
10. Donnie Darko
11. My battered copy of the fellowship
12. A chocolate lolly.
Farewell
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