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nigeltdeI was doing my easter shopping in town today. The new NIN album has come out over here finally - god knows when it was actually released; I subscribe to mailing lists to find this stuff out, but nooooo - so I asked how much the deluxe version is (I have to have the deluxe verson, of course; there's no point otherwise) and almost fainted when the checkout chick said $60. It may actually have been $69.95, my brain shut down after hearing the six. Doesn't labelling something as a bonus disk imply some sort of discount? Maybe it's just the store I went to; I bloody hope so. The Fragile was only $40! First Tool, now NIN. I'm becoming very disillusioned...*g* If music prices go up that much, of course I'm going to download the songs. I'd rather buy the CDs but that's just impossible now.
I also was walking behind this woman - you know the kind: professional, 20-something, brisk walkers, knee length skirts, Nokia 33311947387.02's, hair in a ponytail, carrying a briefcase, slim, moderately good looking - halfway up Gawler Place. Then she turned left and I kept walking. A street later I found myself behind her again - but it wasn't her. It was her exact double, I swear. They had the same hair. They wore the same outfit,' cept one was grey and one was navy. The walked the same. They had exactly the same shoes on. Practically the only thing different was that one had darker stockings. And they both had nice legs, if a little on the slim side.
I looked around and it seemed as though these clone women everywhere. has anyone been alerted to this? I think they're planning some hostile takeover. They meet in their clubs at the gym; they gather like French Revolutionists in that gorgeous little cafe down the road; they talk to each other on the phone inbetween acting as receptioninsts.
Seriously, now: I can't imagine a worse fate than ending up like one of these women (well, of course I can, but that defeats my argument so we'll ignore it). I like to think that I'm OK with a life of anonimity, but in truth I shiver at the thought of an existance as mundane and-- and-- unoriginal that's doomed to lead to me becoming a complete and total nonentity. The show-off in me wants to be famous as heck and I never want to wear a half wool/nylon business suit that complements my bottle blond hair. Please kill me if I do.
On a similar note, Gawler Place is probably the longest street in the Adelaide CBD (it bloody well feels like it anyway): I walked it end to end and missed every bloody light. Godamn people telling me when to walk.
I also was walking behind this woman - you know the kind: professional, 20-something, brisk walkers, knee length skirts, Nokia 33311947387.02's, hair in a ponytail, carrying a briefcase, slim, moderately good looking - halfway up Gawler Place. Then she turned left and I kept walking. A street later I found myself behind her again - but it wasn't her. It was her exact double, I swear. They had the same hair. They wore the same outfit,' cept one was grey and one was navy. The walked the same. They had exactly the same shoes on. Practically the only thing different was that one had darker stockings. And they both had nice legs, if a little on the slim side.
I looked around and it seemed as though these clone women everywhere. has anyone been alerted to this? I think they're planning some hostile takeover. They meet in their clubs at the gym; they gather like French Revolutionists in that gorgeous little cafe down the road; they talk to each other on the phone inbetween acting as receptioninsts.
Seriously, now: I can't imagine a worse fate than ending up like one of these women (well, of course I can, but that defeats my argument so we'll ignore it). I like to think that I'm OK with a life of anonimity, but in truth I shiver at the thought of an existance as mundane and-- and-- unoriginal that's doomed to lead to me becoming a complete and total nonentity. The show-off in me wants to be famous as heck and I never want to wear a half wool/nylon business suit that complements my bottle blond hair. Please kill me if I do.
On a similar note, Gawler Place is probably the longest street in the Adelaide CBD (it bloody well feels like it anyway): I walked it end to end and missed every bloody light. Godamn people telling me when to walk.
