Bring on the shoulder pads...

Today is my first day back into the swing of 9-5. I should be dreading it, but for some strange reason, I’m feeling pretty upbeat about it.
Ok, so I’m a little bored at the moment because my workload is well, nil and I’m not technically supposed to surf the internet, which quadruples my boredom by a gazillion!
How can I not surf? There are new pictures to find on Buzznet and blogs to read and MySpace to explore and of course a ton of other time consuming things I can do that will make my day fly by!

I did manage to get a few hours of surfing in before being told it was a no-no, so I was able to catch up on what was going on in the world… such as:

Fall Out Boy is heading out to Uganda to highlight the work of a charity called Invisible Children. It supports children abandoned during the recent war in the country.
At least Pete is putting his face to some good use. Just, please, no one tell Angelina Jolie…she might adopt the entire country.

Ever wonder who was responsible for the recent rise in Emo bands? I have discovered that we have no one else to blame but The Smashing Pumpkins.
Yep.
The Pumpkins are reuniting (barring bassist D’Arcy) and MySpace Music thought it would be a fab idea to put together a tribute album for them. The contributors are all bands who were influenced by the Pumpkins in a major way, and looking at the list, we now know who to direct our dirty stares at.

Contributors:
30 Seconds to Mars
Hawthorne Heights
Panic! At The Disco
Academy Is…
+ 44
Deftones
My Chemical Romance

And just for the record, I happen to be a huge Pumpkins fan…

I also found my new favourite online comic – Mini MCR.
Basically it’s the scribblings of a UK based fangirl of the band and her comics generally take the piss but in a great way. Check it out!

Onto my life….
Last night was “Asshole” night at the pub. Every moron, chop, pleb and chauvinist in the Greater London area decided to have a drink at the Phoenix last night and pick on the staff. More than once I envisioned myself a Tarantino-esque heroine, shotgun in hand, splattering bloody brain matter belonging to the next puta who decided to come to the bar. And I wouldn’t blink an eyelid.
There would of course be blood everywhere. Except in the drinks.
Patron: Malibu and coke.
Insano: *pulls shotgun trigger, causing buckshot to shred patron’s head* We don’t sell Malibu here. Focker.

Patron2: Pint of lager.
Insano: *repeats above action* Give me a brand, puta. We sell 11 different lagers.

Patron3: Glass of wine.
Insano: *whilst smashing every available bottle of wine over patron’s head* Large or small? Red or White? Merlot or Sauvignon Blanc?

And you know what? I wasn’t even PMS’y.

Today at lunchtime I took a stroll down Wimpole street and to my utter delight, the sun was shining, burning away my body’s idea to evolve gills for me. My mood lifted instantly. I swear, I smiled at a cabbie or two. It was amazing!