The Davide Gualtier Effect

You can stop now Erika ;)

Good news: I am having a baby girl.
Bad news: I have an ear infection.

Funny how the world balances things out like that.

Inspired by something geekr0ck said, I'd like to invite you all to ask me... well, anything you've ever wanted to know about me, really.

Come one, come all! All questions answered!

Hey friends and wellwishers; it's been a while. I don't have much time for catching up, so I'll be brief. So I present to you ( Collapse )
Wish me luck. I'm going to bed.

Is it just me, or is the whole internet broken?

I find myself not wanting to talk about how things are going; not because things are boring and I have nothing to say (for once), but because I'm not sure how it's going to turn out. Life has a funny way of kicking you in the teeth when you're at your happiest and I don't really want to tempt fate.

I've decided to start learning the guitar for the seventeenth time. Buty this time, I'm going to stick with it: I've even bought a book and everything, to prove my commitment! We'll see how long it lasts this time...

This week has also proven to me that I just CANNOT get tired of watching Pulp Fiction. In fact, I may well watch it again today sometime, making 8 viewings in the last 7 days. This multiple viewing ha sbeen partly enforced by the fact that I brought my TV/video combo to my new abode, but brought the wrong remote control, meaning I can't actually tune it in. And I only brought 3 videos with me: Pulp Fiction, Reservoir Dogs and The Best Of Louis Theroux's Weird Weekends, all of which have seen plenty of airtime.

I just read Hansel and Gretel while I wrote this entry, and I'm feeling quite confused: the moral of the story seems to be that parents can leave their children out in the woods to die as long as they accept them when they come back with lots of jewels. DON'T DO IT HANSEL! THEY LEFT YOU TO DIE!! THEY'LL TAKE ALL YOUR JEWELS AND DO IT AGAIN, MARK MY WORDS.

Aren't you supposed to get richer when you get a full-time job? I don't understand. Where has all my money gone? Damn you internet poker! Damn you pension scheme!

It kind of feels like I'm living in a sitcom. But not a very funny one. Kind of like a poor man's Game On.

MBGITWE^TM has broken up with her boyfriend and is back on the scene. I can't decide whether this is a good thing or a bad thing. My heart still sings for her, but my inner pessimist keeps nagging me that no good will come of it. My outer pessimist agrees. But I've never been one for taking advice.

I'm just about moved into my new 'pad'. It's nice to be out from underneath my sister's feet; and the people here are nice enough, if a little eclectic.

There's Eddie, 35ish, who owns the house. He just split up with his girlfriend and had to move back in - he seems a little bitter about it. Then there's Chris, a young man from down south who just decided to move here for no apparant reason; no job, no nothing. Just wants to live here, it seems. Sue is 40ish, and enjoys needlework, cornish pasties and ITV drama series. Then we have alcoholic, heavy-metal-loving, drumkit-playing Colin, 24, who is actually a lot cooler than his outward image would suggest. And John, who looks scarily (and I don't use that term loosely) like Sloth from the Goonies. Only with more eyes, I suppose. Finally, there's the mysterious Anne, who everyone hates but I've never met.

I think I'll fit in quite well.

I just love the thrill of moving home, I guess. Everything seems so new and exciting, even having a poo.

I'm waiting for the phone to ring so I can go and view what will hopefully become my new house. It's quite exciting. And it also feels like the weight of the world has been lifted off my shoulders.

I learnt the following things this weekend:
-Don't let your sister cut your hair, especially when she has no training whatsoever, and
-Don't fry food topless

I should write a book of dos and don'ts. It'd be mostly don't though.

People who work in call centres are for the most part pretty stupid. And I'm not just taling about where I work: the examples run further afield than that.

Take the good people at Vodafone, for example. I just called then to explain that I haven't been receiving any of my text messages. 'No, no,' they said, 'You're just not getting any.' Which is pretty plausible, I'm not the most popular of guys, but I'D JUST BEEN ON THE PHONE TO TWO PEOPLE AND THEY SAID THEY'D BEEN SENDING ME MESSAGES. 'There must be a problem with the other people's phones then, there's nothing wrong with yours.' BUT I JUST SENT A MESSAGE TO MYSELF AND I DIDN'T RECEIVE IT. 'Hmm. I'll just check to see if you have any messages waiting to be sent to your phone... No, nothing there, you're definitely receiving all of your messages.' OK, SORRY, I GUESS IT'S JUST ME BEING A RETARD THEN. I'm furious. But I don't have time to sort this now, I have to go put some clothes on.

Earlier tonight, I got a message from a girl I used to know, saying: 'Hiya phil fancy a shag n a massage?'

Now, she's a nice girl, but not the kind of girl I'd want to have sex with (read: ugly), so I thought I'd defuse the situation with some of my trademark wit:
'Hmm, I dunno. How much are you charging these days?'

She never replied. I don't think she saw the funny side.