dee - viscerate.com

GIRL
Diana Evans
called Dee
since May 25th, 1980
terrorising inner-city Melbourne
consuming flat whites
producing words, hers and other people's
contact dee [at] viscerate [dot] com

SITE
viscerate.com
consisting of personal reflections
photography by Amy Q
archives here

Saturday, March 16, 2002

Just saw Chocolat. Wonderful. Magical. Giggling-happiness.

I want a Johnny Depp for Christmas. Please? I'll be good.

10:52 PM - link to this - (0) comments

"Think of it like this," I said, waxing lyrical. "Relationships are like rubber bands. If they're stretched tight, then when you cut them the ends are going to fly everywhere. But if they're just sitting there, not getting worked, then when they're cut, you barely notice the difference. And at the moment, we're all just ducking so we don't get our eye taken out by a bit of ballistic rubber band."

5:36 PM - link to this - (0) comments

Scrabbling around for my 'Superpower Inventionism in the Middle East' course guide, thinking: "Damn, I hope I didn't send it to Meghan in her Mystery Package."

Fortunately, I didn't. It was just hiding under the chair with my Empire Magazine collection, and assorted other intellectual junk.

I am having weird, weird, weird dreams these days, and would very much appreciate it if my subconscious would just stop now, thank you very much.

But I made a princess, and she married the Prince, and lived disgustingly happily ever after. So see, I am a good mother after all.

Now I'm going to shoot my Snoopy in the head with sucker gun.

3:16 PM - link to this - (0) comments

Friday, March 15, 2002

Je: Did you just get invaded by a rubber band ball?
Me: Yes.
Je: Have you surrended yet?
Me: No. I evicted it by the sheer force of my ignore.
Je: Wow.
Je: Japan should have tried that.
Me: They should have.
Me: Nuke? What nuke?
Je: I didn't see a nuke, did you?
Me: Nope, no nukes here.

4:12 PM - link to this - (0) comments

Your mission, should you choose to be silly, is to go back in time and kill Che Guevara before that stupid photo that everyone wears plastered on their chest was taken.

I just want to see what people would wear instead. Somehow I can't see crusty old Castro becoming a pop culture icon.

9:46 AM - link to this - (0) comments

Thursday, March 14, 2002

The Others. Fantastic movie. I might even be able to stand a second viewing, and DOUG knows, I hate suspenseful movies. You know how some people just love that feeling of entrail-knotting anticipation? Well I don't. In fact I downright loathe it. But this one had an ending worth the stomach-ache, even if they did belabour it a little. And the suspense was really damn well done.

10:06 PM - link to this - (0) comments

Can you believe some bastard's probably stolen Pulp Fiction from the local video store?

We really wanted it too. It segued so nicely into our planned all-nighter. Bridget Jones' Diary, linked by 'the Hugh Factor' (it's tenuous, but we were grasping) to Swordfish, which then leads through John Revolting to Pulp Fiction, thence obviously via director to From Dusk Til Dawn and ending up in the wee hours with The Faculty, which evil, evil Meghan has implanted in my brain.

What on earth fits in there apart from Pulp Fiction? (Before you suggest it, Res Dogs is also iffy.)

Oh, the trials of my life!

5:10 PM - link to this - (0) comments

If you were my Muse, where would you hide? I've looked everywhere, even under the bed. Bloody thing's probably pissed off to the south coast of France again.

10:58 AM - link to this - (0) comments

Wednesday, March 13, 2002

I really like the look of this new comment system thing. The question now becomes: could I be arsed to change?

Now taking bets.

11:41 PM - link to this - (0) comments

I have an absolute plethora of Marilyn Manson. I gave in. Strange little man.

Completely unrelated: boursouflure; it's French for 'blister'.

(I don't like the drugs, but the drugs like me...)

10:23 PM - link to this - (0) comments

There is a magazine called American Cheerleader. Really. Gj's cheerleading troupe in Montreal gave her a subscription for Christmas, and the latest issue just arrived. So much squealing was heard, you'da thunk Johnny Depp just walked past. Naked.

Excuse me, I have to go and read about how to add a twist to my drab old ponytail.

1:28 PM - link to this - (0) comments

I should make random pleas like that more often. I get mail and IMed and contacted all over the place. I'm just an attention slut, I proudly admit it.

If you care, Scott's smutting is moving along quite nicely. 'Twouldn't be gentlemanly to say more.

In other news, I'm growing far too enamored of wearing lipstick on a daily basis. Sure, it's fun, and I like how it looks, but I think this is a horrible symptom of some sort of developing girliness. Soon I'll be giggling, wearing glitter and getting my navel pierced. Fuck that.

12:38 PM - link to this - (0) comments

Tuesday, March 12, 2002

Situation, frame 1: Have sudden urgent need to write Scott smut.

Situation, frame 2: Have no idea how to go about writing smut, as have never really done it before. All fic ideas are currently huge and/or stalled.

Situation, frame 3: Begging for help from anyone who happens to be reading. IM me, email me, fly a paper aeroplane through my window (although that would be a little scary).

10:17 PM - link to this - (0) comments

Z just made a princess. Without really trying, she turned out to be a concubine. Which, really, I think is a step up from a chef, which is what she was going to be halfway through the game. I wanted her to marry the prince, but she kept running away from home.

Yes, I'm bored. I have very little to do.

I also read an article in B's New Scientist about quantum thingummy, and Schroedinger's cat and all, and how some chap wants to do away with it, because it's all uncertain and icky. Scientists are no fun, I tell you. What's wrong with a bit of quantum? They just need to do more hardcore drugs. Then they'd understand how something could be in two places or states at once.

5:42 PM - link to this - (0) comments

Je, about whom you have previously heard me wax lyrical, has started a blog. It's called Name, rank and serial number and it's full of sarcastic, witty Je goodness. Well, maybe not full. She's only just started, after all. But there's quite a healthy dollop of aforementioned goodness, at least.

9:29 AM - link to this - (0) comments

Monday, March 11, 2002

I have "Bored now" written on the back of my hand as a direct result of my seminar this afternoon. Twenty is far too big a group to seriously discuss anything, let alone politics. The best you can hope for in a group of twenty is for a few loud and opinionated people to hold forth extensively using big words like 'modernity' and 'multilateralism' to make themselves look important and remind all of us that seminar participation is worth ten percent of the class.

The problem is that towards the end I actually managed to get a word in edgewise, and in the process of making hand gestures to emphasise my point, had to also make sure to hide the graffiti on the back.

Next time I think I'll wear black lipstick so I can sneer with full force. Or at least dark fuck-off burgundy.

9:08 PM - link to this - (0) comments

Boy Scout Snoopy is attacking my phone with his little red paddle. This isn't nearly as scary as his hideous purple hat. Any more hats like that and he'll have to become Gay Icon Snoopy instead.

Come to think of it, why don't they have one of those in the first place?

9:17 AM - link to this - (0) comments

Sunday, March 10, 2002

Hello all. I am back from Melbourne, to which rapturous city I absconded on Friday. Hence the silence. You didn't even notice, did you? Witness my distress.

The purpose of my flying Melbourne visit was so that my parents and the Male's parents could meet. Enough said, really.

I also went into the city, shopping with the fellow, so that he could get some new work clothes. He's working as a lawyer. Doing his articles. He's been there a whole week, and is already talking yuppie-lawyer-speak. I tickle him every chance I get. During this shopping trip, I felt vaguely like I was accompanying some standard female acquaintance, as he hmmed and ahhed between this shade of purple and that brand's shade of purple, each for horrid sums of money, and checked which went better with what tie.

I told him he should get more shirts, because everyone will have seen them already, darling.

I also told him he should get a red shirt, but he declined, saying that it was too red.

I said: "That's the point, stupid."

8:46 PM - link to this - (0) comments