Tim sent me a challenge via Facebook to write 1000 words. Facebook for some reason has deleted this post from our walls, but thanks to the magic of screen capping, here is le challenge:
Tims attempt can be found here and whilst its a good attempt, my mind is full of random crap just waiting to pop out. If you fancy taking up this challenge, just follow Tims rules above!
I’ve posted the contents of my 15 minutes of shite under the jump, but here’s my little proof that I did it, woo hoo.
Well done me.
OK, so Tim has set me a challenge to do this whole “write 1000 words in 15 minutes” thing, because he is a lazy arsed student who has nothing better to do with his time. Its OK Tim, I love you really. Not in a strange way, because thats not right, but in a Bonnie Tyler sort of way.
14 minutes. So this is basically a ramble of words, which should hopefully entertain you. Or bore you. Or wonder what the hell goes through my mind most of the time.
The whole point of this write or die thing is that you have to keep typing, and if you start to slow down then it will get a bit narky, pause too long and it will delete words apparently. I’m kinda tempted to see how that would work, but then it would mean I would have to retype shiz.
I’m writing this whilst lying on my bed, on my front, and its really painful in my arms. Fucking arms. Infact, my whole body is a bit wrecked, a depressing thing for a 26 year old.
Um, what else to say? The new Twitter “feature” of showing you how many new tweets are on their webpage since you refreshed it last is torturing me, because I can’t really check it right now until my 12 minutes is up.
Work – well, that situation is a bit meh still, its really making me sad a lot of the time, which would be a really bad thing, but there are good things going on as well. There is a rather lovely boy around who tells me sily things and feeds me a lot of tea. It is MARV. Yes, I typed marv, instead of marveouls, because I am down wit da kidz and all that, and also because I don’t actually know how to spell marvelous. Hey, I spelt it right!
Arms really hurting now :(
So not much else is going on at the moment, my time is spent either at work, travelling to and from work, or in the Banco Lounge down the bottom of our road drinking tea and playing with the candles, because its what you do isn’t it?
This weekend, I have no idea what I shall be doing. I know what I SHOULD be doing, things like applying for jobs, and writing CV’s and blog posts and drinking tea. There is one thing on that list I know I will definatly be doing.
Erm, I am having to keep typing because I had a little pause then for like 3 seconds and the screen started going bright red!
Argh, had to flip over onto my back, and am currently trying to wriggle into a position which doesn’t mean that my arms will die before the time runs out. I realise that this all sounds incredibly dodgy, which is what happens when I say things without thinking.
I really love giant Singstar. I know thats a random thought, but I can hear my housemate downstairs watching The Curse Of The Wererabbit on the projector with the shiny new surround sound, and it made me think that a bit of giant Bonnie Tyler is needed tomorrow after work. It is seriously epic, epecially with the wireless microphones. Wireless microphones mean that you can attempt to do the dance moves, which is very hilarious, and this is a fact. I am a great dancer, much better than those girls aloud birds.
Wow, 573 words. Thats pretty scary, considering I have 6 minutes left. Why didn’t I try to write my essays this way? It would have made them a lot more interesting looking. Even if they ended up not being about comparing three Investments papers (with titles that sounded suspiciouly like Harry Potter books) and more about giant Bonnie Tylers.
I had my hair cut on Saturday, finally, since the last time I had it cut was before the Wife and Nathans wedding back in February. Thats pretty bad actually. I had a bit of a strop with my hair on Friday morning, and sent out a paniced little tweet asking for hairdresser recommendations. The first person to reply to me recommended somewhere that is actually 4 doors up the road from me. Which was pretty awesome actually, considering that on Saturday, the weather was shockingly bad. It was at a place called Bianca Blue, and was opened up recently. The woman who cut my hair hasn’t really changed it too much, to the extent that no one seems to have noticed unless they knew I was going to the hairdressers. But I can feel the difference, in that it seems like two thirds of my hair has diappeared. I don’t feel so dowdy anymore! I can wear it loose more! YAY!
2 minutes to go. I am typing this whilst waiting for my hot bath to run, where I shall hide and watch the new episode of Glee (keep meaning to blog about Glee, but am fucking lazy) or read boo.com for the millionth time. It seems so long ago, the whole dot com bubble, I wish I had been old enough (and clever enough) to be able to have taken part in that. But who was going to hire a 15 year old blonde who got a D at GCSE IT? (Yes, everyone finds that hilarious cause they think I’m great at IT. I’m not. I’m just lazy and like making computers do the work for me)
Hmm, 10 seconds to go. I’m up to about 920 words right now, so am starting to fail