Normal? What other man makes soldiers for his runny egg and orders them in rank?

Oh my gosh. I just got off the plane. Well, a few hours ago, but you know. The plane landed at 8.15 ish, and I got home about 10.30. I've been watching Black books and sleeping, oh, and I had a fishfinger sandwich. This is my life so far... *Runs fingers through hair leaving slick finger patterns*... Ahhh, bisto.

So Monday was my birthday, no change there, you all knew that.

Tuesday we flew to North Carolina. The flight was at 11 something, so we were supposed to leave at 7.30, but I got out of bed at 7.15, when Nan called up the stairs to tell me that the taxi man had arrived. So we were a little behind. The plane landed at about 7 pm-ish, which is about 2 pm America time. Then by the time we got up to the mountains of Lake Lure (Bald Mountain) it was about 6ish (America Time), but 11ish English time, and I'd not eaten since 10ish English time, so I was a tad starving. But we ate, and we slept, and I woke up revitalised... yeah, right.

Wednesday, the day before the day where we give thanks to pilgrims and Indians and homosexuals in panther outfits. So we went to Ingles (a supermarket) which is the closest food store to my Aunt Jody's place which is high up in the mountains (not good since I'm kind of strange with heights, and the car drives dangerously close to the edge of a 3000 foot drop... yeah). Then we began to cook. I made banana bread with peanut butter, so it was peanut butter banana bread, which was strangely nicer in the middle of the loaf, rather than the edges where it got a little dry. I also made cranberry orange bread, which was nice, too. And then I went to sit down and write a psychology essay, but I got bored so I went back to the kitchen and we cooked other stuff.

Thursday, the day of thanks. We prepared food and watched the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade, which was terrible, but there was a huge Spongebob Squarepants, so who am I to argue? Chuck and Nan (Nan's Brother and his wife) arrived at about midday. We ate at about 6. We were all full of turkey (except me) and stuffing. Then we had either pumpkin pie or chocolate pecan pie. I had chocolate because pumpkin is yucky. I was full of food and in need of a sleep. so off we all went to bed.

Friday, the day after the day of thanks. Me, Nan (My Grandmother), Chuck, Nan (Chuck's Wife, I'll call her Nanette for less confusion, as that is her name), Jody and Kurt all went to the Biltmore Estate in Asheville. It's the mansion that belonged to some extremely rich and spoilt member of the Vanderbilt's. It was all pretty drab except from the walls of the basement area, which were painted bright yellow with really brilliant pictures of women dancing and doing their daily duties (hanging out washing, etc.) I guess if it was actually there when the place was still owned by it's original spoilt Vanderbilt, the room must have been painted by the servants, because it was so brilliantly different to every other room, and it was in the middle of the servants quarters. Nan bought champagne from the mansions winnery, and we all got very drunk, and by 'all' I mean Nanette. Jody gdrank a load, too, and laughed her head off when I said obviously, saying;
'I must practice my English speaking... 'Obviously'... 'Obviously' *putting on faked English accent, then blatant American accent* ... Do I sound English?'
'No, No you do not.'
Also, if you ever hear Chuck talk, you'll notice that he kind of sounds like Owen Wilson, the actor, so when he commented about giving me the entire bottle of champagne with a straw, and then said, in his very amusing accent;
'You are going to get soooooo wasted.'
I laughed my fucking head off. And no, I wasn't drunk. I guess it's the fact that he said wasted, of course, I did overhear him and my Nan having a conversation about magic mushrooms. Weird.

Saturday. No, I have no hangover. I never get hangovers, and no, I am not an alcoholic. I just get hungry. But thats another story. Saturday we went to an antiquey place, I bought Rachel some earrings, as she didn't ask for any food. Which reminds me, some of the food on the list I couldn't get because they either don't sell it in the mountains, or they don't sell it in the south, and yes, North Carolina is still the South. But I'm pretty sure I got everything I could, and I'm sure there is something for everyone.

Sunday. Yesterday. We went to places where I don't remember where they were. Oh yeah, we went to the blue ridged mountains, of which I have pictures on my dead mobile phone. I'll post them later or something. There was ice and stuff. Then we went to a restaurant and I had a catfish sandwich, seriously, it was yummy. Then we were at the airport. I had a starbucks. America make coffee craply, even in starbucks. Stupid American spotty bastard stood there squeezing his left nut whilst he spat in my coffee. I'm kidding, of course, it was his right nut.

Which brings me to today. I've slept one hour since Saturday night, and I'm on the verge of dying. But at the same time, I feel light headed and googly. I haven't taken my pills, and the airplane left an unmistakable feeling of my head being in a vice, for 8 hours. But now it's over, and I'm home, my cats have forgiven me for leaving them, and Emmie is even purring next to me, now. She's so pretty.

So yeah. I'll bring in food tomorrow. I'm going to have a little nap now, and then a shower, then go to bed. It's 2pm. This entry took me about 20 minutes to write because I can't seem to find the right keys to type. I'm losing. To bed I go, to watch black books and cry with laughter at Dylan Moran, Bill Bailey, and that Lesbian girl.

Diaphragm

A quite note to say that today was my birthday and I had a lovely day. Thank you everybody for my presents, and I look forward to playing the snes when I get back from America (I'd love to play it tonight but I'm literally taking a moments break from packing to write this).
And tomorrow I'm off to America. I've got my orders to buy all these candy bars and stuff. So I'll do my best. I've got loads of space in my suitcase.
Love Donna
xxx
P.s. Thanks again to everyone for a wicked birthday and all my presents.

Beck owns your family now...

I normally update once a week, but for some odd reason I felt like I wanted to update today. Rachel, Robyn and I aree going to the cinema tomorrow for my birthday. We might see Corpse Bride if it's on, even though I've seen it, but the pirate sucked jelly beans, really. Or I'd like to see Zorro 2, even though I find Catherine Zeta Jones an utter drag queen, but I like Antonio Banderas, and Zorro is cool in a sort of 'popular yet not entirely shit' type way, like Santana.

I've found a new director I like. I've always enjoyed films by Tim Burton, 'cos he's all wacky and quirky about things, even if Planet of the apes totally wanked all over my tissue. This new guy is Chris Cunningham. I've known of his stuff since I saw a few of his music videos back in 2000/1999, like ones for Leftfield and for Portishead. He's also directed some Aphex twin videos, and some Squarepusher ones too... God I love myself. He also directed the music video for Madonna's 'Frozen' which I think is the one with her with black hair, but of course, I'm just babbling now. And some Bjork ones too. He worked on special effects for Artificial Intelligence: AI, and Alien:Resurrection. (Am I trying to sell him to you now, or what?) So yeah, all in all he's pretty cool.

I made brownies on Monday, which was so fecking random. They were huge and black like Meatloaf dipped in a steaming pile of shit.

What is wrong with me today? Insane in the membrane. INSANE IN THE BRAIN.

I'm listening to Robert Plant and the Strange Sensation. Some strange Led Zeppelin wannabe failure type thing with Robert Plant. So I guess instead of it being a failure of a Zepp tribute type band, he's created a whole new band with a whole different sound, which is actually not too bad. Like when Queen reformed without Freddy Mercury. It's like... HUH? Freddy Mercury was Queen. All you bastards in the back, you work for him. And he's dead, so you now work for nobody. You are unemployed, hornless toads who cannot get girlfriends/wives because your dicks are too small... HA!

Did I tell you I lost my phone? Well I found it. Byron was trying to steal it. He's such a hardcore girl scout. But Jay caught him and spanked him hard, my phone fell out of his arsehole, and I got it back, in one piece, if covered only sparcely with lubricant and shite.

And it's my birthday on Monday next week. You know this. I shall entry write on that day, to tell you how it was, and to say goodbye, for I am off to America, which you also know, to hit the homeless with bats made of gold, and spank their parents with wet fish.

This entry really should be poetry. Don't you think? It has all the humour of a small child dying of Cavaties.

Oh, Robyn passed her test. CONGRATULATIONS! I was worried, because I knew she took it on Friday, but she didn't tell either Rachel or I how it went, so we were really worried. But then she came in and was like 'I'm a driving girl now' and we were like 'Yay, congratulations' and she was like 'Thanks' and we were like 'Yeah'.
So she's been driving us places, and I'm giving her money for each trip as it's only fair on her, really.
Also, Kirsty passed her test today. CONGRATULATIONS! I'm very proud. People are passing tests and driving. Almost inspires me to become one of those people who throws themselves of a bridge infront of cars in a bid to relieve themselves of the pain and torture of having to learn to drive. But I think twice and decide it isn't worth it.

My Uncle is currently visiting from Teneriffe. He's pretty cool. I think I mentined this so I won't go into too many details.

So now all that's left is for Tee to pass her test (God forbid). Rachel needs to start driving lessons, I guess, if she wants to learn to drive. Same with Tom. And Magical Catherine and Mystical Charlotte. Can you drive yet? hmmm. Yuri can drive, nto that I care, he has an escort, am I correct? Ha... poor bastard. Kirsty has a micra... I mean, really? At least Robyn has a car worth mentioning. A Citroen C3. I mean, I'd personally have gone for a C4 if I wanted a Citroen. It's the name of my cat (Jesus the rabbit's name is C4) and the advert involves the car turning into a robot and dancing to Les Rhythmes Digitales - Jacques your body (Make me sweat) from their 1999 album DarkDancer. I'm sorry, there is no better car. But I saw the advert for the C3 last night and decided that it wasn't that bad in comparison.

Also, today, I walked out of my graphics lesson and have decided to drop the subject. I'm no longer enjoying it (like I ever really was) and the teachers are being wank about me needed to work in a seperate room because of my migraines. Well i'm sorry if your lights are 'burning my retina' as Gemma says. But you don't have treat me like dirt because I'm working seprarately. I'm nearly 18/ I do not need a minder constantly. I can be left to get on in my own time, but no. So i'm giving up. I guess that makes me a quitter, but at least I'm a damn sexy quitter with more piercings than you, whore.

This has been a reasonably long entry. I'm sorry. But I feel I've now actually infromed you of stuff, whereas my last entry was 'all about the punk'.

So now I say goodbye. You are an inpiration to me, all of you out there. Everyone who reads this entry. I love you, and God bless you. I'm not even being sarcastic. I'm being real fos once in my life.

So take care, and until next time, goodbye friends (and foes).

xxx

I Wanna Be Sedated *Note, this entry is bollocks, read at your own peril*

Sheena is a punk rocker. And so am I... Lies.

My Uncle has come all the way over from Teneriffe to see us. He arrived yesterday. His hair is slightly longer, his words slightly more slurred. Dennis is here!

I met a guy on the bus who said he was Elvis. I remember meeting someone on a tube who said he was Jesus. Now I need to meet Hitler, and my dreams have totally come true... Yeah.

For those of you who know Punk, you will probably have guessed I'm listening to The Ramones. Also today I have listened quite intently to The Clash, as they were the better band in the whole 'Clash vs Pistols' thing. And, unfortunately, I've lost my Pistols album.
But really, folks. The Clash are better. I know nobody will argue, because you either don't have the brain power, the guts, or you just plain don't care. Or, you care, and smell like a fishmonger after a hot day in the sun being chased by 5000 cats, and so therefore need to bathe for an hour and a half, by which time you will be too tired to argue, and too comfortable to care, while you climb into bed and put the clash on your stereo, as you know deep down in your hearts that they are the better band, yadda yadda yadda.

We're going to the Siam Cottage in about 45 minutes for a meal out. Not my idea. It means I'll have to put on something smart... Fuck that. Bauhaus t-shirt and jeans me thinks. Bauhaus. A totally underestimated band. They didn't just cover Bowie, and I'll have you know, Bowie covered them too, but they truly did some pretty good tracks, tracks I would be proud of.

But, of course, I'd be proud of the ability to write a song. I can't write anything except terrible poetry and the odd paragraph long story that ends in the death of a small boy via tea or a shark, or something equally stupid. I just remembered something. Equakky. Private thing. Only two people would remember that. It's kind of gay really. The whole thing stemmed from my sincere inability to use a keyboard. And one of the people who understand it I don't talk to anymore, which I guess is sort of shitty because there were some good times. And the other person is a smelly old turd boy who I still talk to and who may even read this.

Hi smelly old turd boy! *waves*

(It was pronounced Ex-Quack-Ee)

What other Bands can I talk about. Ani DiFranco, the Alanis Morissette-esque bisexual? Greenday's terrible 'Punk' stylings. Blink 182, for the same reasons as Greenday? Bright Eyes' strange but beautiful lyrics? Nine inch nails uber-cool soundings? Coldplay, who i find extremely boring and dull, but at the same time, really very talented and cool geezers? Or Oasis, who meerly suck in general?

None of them. No more music.

In other news, Mr. Wadwell never got his homework. Haha. I don't care.

Note; this entry has been about absolutely nothing but the punk music. And the odd offering of something more quizzically engineered. Now I'm just making things up. This entry is bollocks. Perhaps I should have written that at the beginning.

Jesus says hello. and by Jesus I mean my cat, C4, obviously, as the real Jesus died after being hit by a bus just three days ago. I'll miss you, Jesus. I hope you go to heaven, and I'll buy you a muffin when I see you next.

xxx

Jonny Lee Miller quoting something about Sean Connery, whilst two old ladies die of a stroke

Die, another day.

So yeah. I've got homework due in tomorrow. Sorry Mr. Wadwell, it's not gonna happen. However, Thursdays homework just might.

Of course I hadn't the time to do it this weekend, as I wasn't home. I went to see Magical Mystical Robyn (who snores). Byron (Bryony, Byrony, James) came too (he also snores). Rachel was there (she's moody and whores for absolutely nothing) as was her sister, Ms. Charlotte of Rowley (She's blonde... Need I say more?)

Actually it was pretty cool. Byron (Bryony, Byrony, James) and I stayed for the whole time, whereas whorey Rachel and Blonde Charlotte went home. We sat on Saturday (Sat-urday... That was smart) and watched loads of movies, including trainspotting, the village, and some others. Byron (Bryony, Byrony, James) 'Owned' me at chess, but I 'owned' him at checkers. Listen to me, I'm getting home with the downies, boi.

Yeah

I made cake. It was black forrest flavoured.

C4 says hello (Her real name is Jesus and she is a rabbit, inventor of 'Jesus the Rabbit's Magical Drug-Free Happy Pies' and 'Jesus the Rabbit's No-More-Drugs Hallucinogen Fags', which also come in pill form)

I'm listening to Coltrane... Because I'm so hardcore.

Last week was a real whorehouse.

Which reminds me of a joke.

'What did the dyslexic pimp buy?
A Warehouse'

Get it. Because a pimp would buy a whorehouse... Yeah. Rachel didn't get it either. But I cound it funny. Also,

'Two snowmen are talking, let's, for arguments sake, call them Twat-Face and Burger-Hut. Anyhow, Twat-face, inadvertantly turns to Burger-Hut mid-sentence and rudely disrupts him, by saying 'Sorry to interrupt you old chap, but do you smell carrots?'

Get it. 'Cos snowmen have carrots for noses... I found it funny. Although I did add to that joke,. and as far as I'm concerned, made it a few degrees mfunnier by adding words such as 'Twat' and 'Burger' and 'Homie'.

... And now I'm going to go to bed as I'm feeling tired and cold... yes it is 8pm, but it doesn't stop me feeling tired. So G'Bye my lovelies....

This is for you, Kirsty... Fucking Ugly Mingers

Well, I'm feeling a little strange today. I don't know why. I'm cold and stuff, I guess. My lizard is 14 weeks yesterday and 11 inches. He's so sweet.

My book isn't going by very fast. Robyn's taking her damn time doing the illustarations, but she did some today which were pretty good, so I'm pleased.

So this weekend is Robyn's party. It's gonna be fun. Rachel is going to fix my drinks, because she wants me drunk. I will not puke again...

I'm going shopping tomorrow to buy some stuff, including a stupid flight case which is giong to cost me anything between £40 and £60. All this for art? I'm not sure if it's worth it, you know?

I've also figured out what tattoos I'll be getting for my birthday. But I'm not telling anyone but Rachel, because it's a magnificent secret. And I might chicken out.

Which reminds me, it's my birthday on November 21st. And then on November 22nd I'm flying out to North Carolina for thanksgiving. THE most vegetarian-friendly holiday in the world, bar, of course, christmas. NOT. But my aunt says they're be plenty of veggies, so I guess I'll live. Stupid veegetarian pact thing. New Years Day, I'm eating a fucking steak. Infront of a fucking vegetarian if I can find one. Actually, I don't want meat anymore. it actually tastes disgusting in memory. Except, obviously, steak, and chicken.

*Turns on radiator*

So, what else have I got to write about? I had last week off school. Went to town on Monday, came home in the evening and went to bed. I woke up on Wednesday evening. What a sleep! I'm back to my old ways.

I've been having these weird dreams. They're like a little story. I've had four in three days. And they all join together. Each dream is like a day. But I'm me in a renaissance (sp?) type boys mind, in the body of me, as if I were a boy. Does that make sense? Anyway, I keep going to this place to meet someone who's being dropped off of a horse somewhere, but evertime I go there I get distracted, and arrive late, but find out this person wasn't dropped off today. I hope I get another installment, and I hope I find out who this person is. Last night I was distracted by trying to reset the clock on the village hall, which happens to be right next to the 'horse drop off' place.

Also, I found out last night that the wax worms I feed to my dragon don't die. They turn black, and I figured it'd died, so I put them in one big clear box, and set them on the side to put them in the garden. But They weren't dead. They'd cacooned up. And there were two moths frying around in the tub yesterday. So that's where moths come from I guess. I think I thought they were born like daddy long legs. Right from the ground. I dunno. But I put them outside last night, and it rained, and the whole tub got drowned. So I think I maye have killed the cacoons. Ooops. Bad vegetarian.

And yesterday was halloween. And Catherine and Charlotte's birthday's. So Happy Birthday for the two of you. Also, this is a picture of the pumpkin that I carved out last night. What'dya think? Weird, huh? Anyways. I'm off now. Goodbye. xxx

*Donna was listening to The Fiery Furnaces - Blueberry Boat, and CocoRosie - La Maison De Mon Reve during the writing of this entry. But, of course, you didn't really need to know that*