| Wednesday, October 30, 2002 |
 | And now, because I am stuck in the gutted skeleton of this office for a while yet, and because somebody asked after its health recently, the fisrt part of the Matt/Dan conversational topics list:
Upsideclown.
Making somebody drink a bottle of ketchup for £50. How much they would have to earn a year for £50 to seem a reasonable sum to drink a bottle of ketchup. How the only person who went for it was a student. How it looked, and how they felt afterwards.
Whether this behaviour with the bottle of ketchup made Matt evil.
Masons.
Whether a mutual acquaintance is a cunt or not.
Talking USB ports.
Laser harps. With Pokemon voices.
"You're much cooler than my real dad."
How it is surprising that Matt talks so much shit (observed Matt). Or is it?
Linguistic prescriptivism. Or, to put it another way, being able to talk properly.
Holidays in Selfawaria.
The saddest CV ever.
(The saddest CV ever was received a few months back. It was written, in blue ballpoint, on a piece of paper ripped in half and with lines drawn across in pencil. I just wanted to give the man a hug)
Job satisfaction.
26 wards in a district council. Maybe.
The men with the smallest penises in the world.
Meg selling her old CDs.
Matt's bad techno habit.
Philip Glass and getting into classical music through shit trance.
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