Smack me, yeah?

I wish I had a fucking printer. Okay, I have one, but it isn't hooked up and I honestly don't even know where it is.

And, apparently there is a 1000 Comment Meme making the rounds. How many comments can I get on this entry? Come on people, help me out here.

Also, it has been learnt I can do a pint in 8 seconds. That's a fresh-poured, still foamy (yum) pint o'Oirish Bliss. Mmm, Guinness, how I love thee. Huh. I wonder what the Guinness World Record is for number of Guinness pints consumed in one minute? Full pints, mind. None of that pissy half-pint bullshit. We're not Hobbits, damnit.

Anyway. Yeah. Cute bargirl. From some city I can't even begin to pronounce. Jaysus. That's it. I'm defecting to Ireland.

Right-o. Goodnight.

Well.

I hate my job! I hate it with a passion normally reserved for large dogs and people who sneeze without covering their mouths.

And, I've finally watched the first Harry Potter film. I swore I would never, ever do it, but I have. And you know what? I liked it. I bloody well liked it. I'm ready to be sorted and everything. I promise I'll never try to write Harry Potter fic, though. You've my solemn word. I've got one question, however: If Quidditch is played in the air, why do they need an actual pitch? Why the grass? And I think Harry Potter is his own Mary Sue. But I liked it.