Stuff.

Home again from a four-day-weekend in London, which was wonderful. Saw Monty Python’s Spamalot (which, if you didn't know, is sort of a musical version of 'The Holy Grail'), where I had a moment of utter (though quiet) squee when Alan Dale came on stage. I mean, come on! Bradford Meade! Caleb Nichol! Then my squee subsided somewhat, because he wasn’t really that good, but still. And the show was fantastic - I laughed so much my cheeks hurt. The guy playing Patsy was my favourite - he looked eerily like Terry Gilliam, while at the same time being oddly cute. And if there is one thing Terry Gilliam is not, it’s ‘cute’.

Oh, and I am now also the proud owner of a white, fluffy killer rabbit with pointy teeth. This random American dude sat next to me bought one during the interval, and after paying he said, "This one is for you," and gave it to me. I have no idea why, but… Killer rabbit! Yay! It’s awesome, and called Steve. I don't know why, but it fits him.

On a completely different note, only three weeks until the new puppy arrives! I can’t wait. Of course, once it’s here and the initial ‘homigod so CUTE’ has worn off, it’s going to be a tiring summer of getting bitten every time you stick your hand down, and having to run out for a walk in the middle of an important football game. I can just imagine it. Sweden against France, 1-1 two minutes into overtime, and puppy begins looking anxious. And it will inevitably be my turn to go.

I’ve decided that I’m going to work on my Scouse this summer. I want that accent, damn it. I know the basic differences, like /ɜ:/ becoming /e:/, and /ɐ/ becoming /ʊ/ (I love saying /we:d/ and /brʊðə/), but clearly there is so much more and I want to learn it.

Oh, and /k/ becomes /x/, like in the Scotish 'loch'. So, 'look' would be pronounced as /lʊx/. How awesome is that?

Sports blather

So, Liverpool won against Manchester City today. Yay! And Torres was the one who scored, which made me extra happy. I’m so proud of El Niño. Take that, all those who didn’t think he’d make it in the UK.

And my boys seem to have recovered somewhat after losing the Champions League semi-final to Chelsea. Man, that sucked. And the worst part was how happy both my parents were with the result; they’re both Chelsea supporters. The living room was so full of glee (and resentment, on my behalf), you wouldn’t believe.

I actually really love football. It amazes me, but I do. It’s fun to watch, and exciting. True, it's limited to English football and cups, but still.

What handball news there is isn't very exciting. Hammarby won the final against Sävehof, which wasn't completely unexpected considering how superior they've been this season, but it was still a disappointment.
And, here's to hoping that next season, my Lugi will get their act together and reach the standard I know they're really at. Because this season was bloody embarrassing.

The efforts of a high school student

I just went back and looked at some of the English 'essays' I wrote in high school, which was, what, five years ago? And Jesus H. Christ, people. That was embarassing. But also oddly amusing.

I had actually written the phrase 'To summon up' at the end of one of them. I reacted 'on' things. I posed questions that I began to answer with the word 'Yep'. I wrote 'teared apart'. I even described a certain event in a novel as 'very not interesting'. 

*headdesk*

Note to self: do not read your junior high stuff if you find that you still have any of it left.

Man, reading the 'conclusion' to my analysis (and I'm using the word 'analysis' in the loosest sense possible, here) of Grisham's The Rainmaker is cracking my shit up.

What worries me slightly, though, is the idea of looking back on this blog in a few years and having a similar reaction.