Oh man....

American Idol. Dude. It's not right to make fun of the less fortunate. I know I do it all the time, but not on national tv.

Yeah, I smirked a little, but it felt wrong-diddly-ong....

HOW short is Ryan Seacrest?!

Jesus, I know the guy has to stand on a box, but he is minute. Not just short, but.... petite. Weird.

I'm watching the American Idol final. It's piss poor. Seriously. I haven't watched any of it before, and I am so not impressed. If these two were the finalists, then I dread to think what the rest of the contestants were like. I have a grudging liking for Blake. Despite the all American name/sweater combination. Pffft. Whoever suggested that those diamond patterned golf jumpers, I'm sorry, sweaters were back in vogue deserves to be shot down. But he's still terrible. Espcially if he tries to sing. The other woman is pretty lame. I've forgotton her name, but she seems ok. Sings fairly well, but is just the beigeist lady alive.

And why is it that the song that they have to release is always the worst single ever written? It's the same on every idol final. They do really well up until the point that you have to experience the tragic piece of ass that they have to unleash on an unwitting public. At least the woman sings better than Blake. (I wish I could say his name without choking on the sarcasm.) Though I'm quite done with her touching tears at the end of every rendition. She's bound to win, not to mention working my last nerve at this moment in time. I wish she wouldn't win. What's the choice though?

You'll be delighted to learn that I am feeling better and much more my vitriolic self, as you can tell. I'm getting cabin fever stuck in the house all the time, (It's been over a week since I stepped out the front door.) and I'm planning on going to sort out some stuff at my Grandma's house tomorrow. I had a brief funny five minutes after hanging out some washing today. So provided I don't exert myself too much or for too long, I am able to function more like a human being. Just in time for the school holidays. Today was probably the first day I could have gone back, but I just know I would have been crap and I have loads of lessons with my class 5 boys on a Friday. Much though I love them, and I do, I can't cope with their bullshit unless I am fully rested.

Nearly time for the AI result. We were distracted briefly by a man in too much eyeliner (or 'guyliner' as the very funny Cat Deely put it) singing some angsty gee-tar crud, but that was all pointless digression. Uh. The finalists are on stage together. Ha hahahaha! Is he really short or is she massive? Oh, now, I'm not dissing short men. It's only in the world of tv, where men must be tall and broad shouldered and women must be thin with glossy hair, stupid really. I've fallen for men much shorter than me. Not, I hasten to add, Ryan Seacrest. I'd crush him accidentally. Probably with my new shoes. They make me over six foot. I kinda like it.

Uh. Did no one tell Kelly Clarkson that thigh high boots are no good unless you happen to be a hooker?

Since I have been ill, I have been having this stupid argument with my mother. Basically when I get sick, my sense of smell and taste goes all kablooey. There was this awful air freshner smell in the bathroom and it was driving me insane. I kept thinking someone had used the spray freshner and it had permeated into everything in the room. Oh, how wrong I was. My mother had bought... I can't even say it... scented toilet paper.....

What the fuck does anyone want with scented loo roll? As I said to my mother, it's not really for sniffing, you wipe your arse with it! Now I'll admit to buying scented tampax once, but I couldn't really grasp the point in that either and I had no choice. But then that wasn't as heavily scented as the loo roll. Anyway. Mother is very precious about the new TP and won't listen to any of my demands to change it as it makes me vomit. Dude. Scented loo roll.

Huh. just when I was thinking perhaps there was something wrong with the sound on American Idol, as most of the ex-contestants sounded so crap, along came Smokey Robinson. Oooooooo....
I love Smokey....

...Had a little work done, Smokey? Yeah...

The power of Christ compells you!!

Ugh. Why can't I exorcise the illness demon? Still pretty sick, although I am planning on going into work tomorrow. Could be a mistake as I have an hour with my stupid year 5 class. Who are anything but quiet and sensitive to my needs. It's mainly that I am bored to tears stuck at home. My mother has been urging me to take 'bereavement leave' (Grandparent death) but I hate being at home honking and sneezing and taking an exciting cocktail of cold medication while my lesson timetable goes all to hell. I was just getting up to date with planning and marking and now it's all shot to shit. Plus it's half term next week and I have no desire to spend it working. I'm not too sure, but I also gather that it's the school photograph on Friday and there are some people I'd dearly love to piss off by being in it. Heh heh heh...

I tell you what I'm really not looking forward to. The train. As a commuter I know the horror of realising that you have got into the compartment with Typhoid Mary, who spends the journey coughing and spluttering Black Death stylee. But you forget how it feels when you are Typhoid Mary and everyone keeps favouring you with that look. The one that implies you have clearly mislaid your bell and should be lumbering about wrapped in manky bandages and shouting 'UNCLEAN! UNCLEAN!' to warn the general public of your arrival. So you end up trying to not cough, which, as everyone knows, leads to more coughing, generally louder and often with an exciting death rattle. I hate it. Annoyingly, I also can't help it.

In other news: I am not sure I can wear the shoes for the wedding on the 27th. After some time milling around the kitchen, (i.e. about 10 mins) they were very sore. It's mainly that they are so high. Am not sure of the best way to manage them. If I do wear them, I'll have to take my Birkenstocks too and a large enough handbag to accomodate either. Then only slip them on at the venue and change later for travel. Hmmm. Plus. It's a Jewish wedding, so there will be dancing (woo!) and that would be asking for trouble in the heels.

Have just read my last paragraph. I am very worried about myself. Who uses their blog to blab on about shoes? Me apparently. What have I become?

In a rather violent twist of topic, I just have to recommend the Biker Mice from Mars game on the DS. While I have been ill, it has made me laugh my arse off. In the following ways:

I particularly like the fact that you get no help at all from the booklet with things like 'jumping on to something' and your mouse is forced to produce hilarious physical contortions as you systematically press all the buttons, individually at first, then combinations of two or three, and then, most excitingly ALL AT ONCE!! The result of this is that I am able to make the mouse do stuff, but have no idea how this miracle was achieved.

Also I love the fact that there's a level that is impossible to escape. There's nothing to jump on or pick up and you just end up dodging missiles hurled at you, by cats in radiation suits... I think. I don't know what that level is all about, but I can't get through it.

The special 'power up' move. Oh God. I couldn't work out what kept happening. My mouse would be getting on with his life, running, jumping, performing somersaults, generally rockin' and ridin' as he was wont to do. Then, without warning, he would randomly spin in a circle, emit spurts of brightly coloured exploding liquid and let loose with an orgasmic cry of delight. This threw me so completely that he would usually die immediately afterwards through some kind of cat attack. (Like a salmon, after sowing his wild oats.) After around three or four of these and some consultation of the booklet, I realised that this was his 'special move'. (Yes, very special...) I kept pressing the L button on the back by mistake and randomly setting him off. He has to power up first, through unknown means, and so it didn't happen very often. Certainly explained the 12+ age limit on the game for me though.

And lastly: In the Finnish version of the game, Vinnie is renamed 'Vinski'. I don't know why I particularly love this. But I do...

"Lad os komme i gang!" As they say in Denmark.

I could tell you what it means in English, but that would spoil my fun and would sound, if you'll forgive the adjective, a little gay...

To 'of' or not to 'of'.

Ugh. If the title of my blog does not make sense it is partly due to the fact that I am sick. I had to go home from work with flu on Thursday. I am able to type this solely through the use of copious amounts of nurofen cold and flu, boredom and sleeping for about 30 hours straight over the past few days.

On the plus side, I have new shoes.

This could be the flu talking... I was just wondering, glancing at the title of my blog, should it be 'The mystical shrine of procrastination' or 'The mystical shrine to prorastination'?

Ach. Thinking hurts my brain. Time to sleep...

more on scientology... And penises...peni...whatever.

I'm watching this weird programme on Scientology. It's all a bit strange. Most strange was a man saying that Scientology was the study of life. Uh... Isn' t that biology...?

Pfft. I have things to say. I can't remember any of them. A six day week beginning with a train back from Bristol to London in the aftermath of a family wedding has made me lose all ability to think.

I leave you with this thought from last week's RS lesson:

'Miss... What's circumcision?'

Closely followed by:

'Oh. ........ What's a foreskin?'

I needed a very strong drink after that one.

Plus I had an argument with some noxious little oik about how to pronounce the word 'Medieval'. I'm just going to check if I was right. I was sure I .... OH GOD! Someone just said it on the TV. Just this second! *hums the Twilight Zone music*

I was right. And now he will be savagely mocked for being so condescending. Ha ha ha hahahahah!