http://www.livejournal.com/users/emptyjohn

A colleague from a different department just gave me a bottle of faux-champagne as a way of saying thank you for help I’ve given her recently with paperwork. She also invited me to her son’s First Holy Communion. I feigned enthusiasm until I the date was mentioned and then I feigned disappointment, as unfortunately I have no interest in socialising ( Read more... )

The middle-aged woman who sits across from me likes nothing better than discussing her bodily functions with the other harpies. The four rank syllables of diarrhoea are often on her lips.

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( Recent History )

Since being woken, repeatedly, at still-drunk in the morning by my fiendishly irritating next-door neighbours and bitterly crying myself back to sleep’s less-than-perfect oblivion I have taken to performing my morning exercise regime (two sit-ups, two press-ups, one coughing-fit, three star-jumps and one or two gentle-sobs) whilst bellowing ( Read more... )

As an antidote to my daily portion of overcooked pasta I have prepared myself a delicious portion of undercooked pasta for lunch. Ah, variety. Tomorrow I might eat it raw.

I can’t seem to find a happy median between conciousness and thoughtless oblivion but I have discovered that I am partial to cheese on toast with Tobasco sauce and black pepper ( Read more... )

Fuckholes to metafiction: masturbatory, conceited, catatonic and vain.

I think I may spend the weekend hidden away at my parents’ house in Potter Bar. I’m seriously thinking about leaving London for a while. Talk is cheap, don't you think?