The life of an extra. Such fun.

I'm suing the company for getting me sunburned. Most of it was spent standing around doing sod all in Trafalgar Square all morning. My cousin and I had to walk down the steps and round the fountain as Marc Warren and whoevertheotherguyisinHustle came running at us. Nekkid. I'm not sure of the ins and outs of the scene, I was too busy explaining to the cousin that no, that's not Charles Bronson, his name is Robert Vaughan.

It seemed as if we were all in a lot of the shots, so look out for the mong with the hair in desperate need of a cut, aviators and a Libertines t-shirt in series 3 of Hustle folks! Next February apparently...

This is just to issue a warning to that black punk-ass cat who beat up my cat and hurt her leg, causing her to limp and scratch an intriguing heart-shaped pattern on my hand when I tried to carry her down the stairs.

I'm coming for you. And I'm bringing friends. Big friends with dogs.

Some LJ/chain letter bollocks for y'all. Because I'm not cultured enough to discuss the New York Times' article on globalisation or Harry bleedin' Potter. Which, by the way, I know the full details of and ending to. Bwahahaha.

(Plus, this could be potentially funny as most of youse don't really know me well enough or have never met me and can therefore not answer all the questions. Make something up if you don't know.)

01. Where did we meet?:
02. Take a stab at my middle name:
03. How long have you known me?:
04. When is the last time we saw each other?:
05. Do I smoke?:
06. Do I believe in God?:
07. When you first saw me what was your impression?:
80. My age?:
09. Birthday?:
10. Color hair?:
11. Color eyes?:
12. Do I have any siblings?:
13. Have you ever been in love/liked me?:
14. What's one of my favorite things to do outdoors?:
15. What's one of my favorite things to do indoors?:
16. Do you remember one of the first things I said to you?:
17. What's my favorite type of music?:
18. What is the best feature about me?:
19. Am I shy or outgoing??:
20. Would you say I am funny ha ha or funny sarcastic?:
21. Am I a rebel or do I follow all the rules?:
22. Would you consider me a friend, an acquaintance, or a good friend?:
23. Would you call me preppy, slutty, average, sporty, punk, hippie, glam,nerdy, snobby, or something else?:
24. Have you ever seen me cry?:
25. If there were one good nickname for me what would it be?:
26. Are my parents still together?:
27. Do I drink?:
28. What is my worst fear?:
29. Are you going to post this and see what I say about you?:

It's times like these I yearn for Fametracker again. I think Planet Showbiz waited until the forums shut down before it went crazy. Since it's gone:

- the Pope died (who claimed him in the Death Pool?)
- Anne Bancroft died (I claimed her in the Death Pool) :(
- Tome Cruise and Katie Holmes. Doubleyoo. Tee. Eff.
- the train wreck of Pete Doherty careers 'gently' onwards

And now. I've just read at IMDb that Brett Fucking Ratner will direct the new X-Men film. Come back Matthew Vaughan, all is forgiven! Please!

Also, this: Brett Ratner is spicing up the new X-Men 3 movie with the addition of his very own fantasy - a sex siren mutant who seduces her opponents rather than battles them. Ratner takes over from departing director Bryan Singer, who made the first two movies, and the Rush Hour film maker is determined to leave his mark on the comic book series. The new mutant has not yet been cast but unknowns Kate Nauta and Aya Sumika will reportedly audition. A source tells Pagesix.com the mutant will be, "An unbelievably hot and sexy hooker. Her super power is that she secretes a pheromone that helps her to seduce men. She can seduce anyone." The source adds of the auditions, "They are open to all ethnicities who are in their early-to-mid 20s."

You know what, you are really making it hard for me to defend you Brett old buddy. I won't be able to throw down the 'Red Dragon was quite good' card for much longer.

Edit: I also just read Kelsey Grammer is playing Beast and Vinnie Jones is playing Juggernaut.

I'm sorry, what?

Sign of the apocalypse: my mother is dancing in the kitchen, the song on her MP3 player being P.I.M.P.

Oh god, she just said 'motherfucking.'

Yes I apologise for the casual swearage. But they are the reason I can no longer go to the secret Kaiser Chiefs Leeds gig.

The tickets were only sold in Leeds and 20 were put in a draw for members of their forum who couldn't get there; consequently, I won, and bought a ticket.

Since then I realised I had an exam the next day. It's at 2 and the megabus back leaves at 5am, so I would have got back with time to spare, but the mother chooses now to tell me there's no way I'm going. What if it breaks down, I'm not coming to get you and blah blah blah.

I know she's right. But I'm severely pissed off. And I actually cried.

Woe.

Say hello to Giles.

Dear British Gas.

It has come to my attention that your employees were all born in a barn. I can think of no other reason why the man you sent to install our new boiler has to leave both the front and back doors wide open.

God I'm bored. Maybe I should be actually revising for my exams, but I'm one of those English students who tells herself that there's no right or wrong answer in said subject and alls I have to do is ramble some bollocks about lexis and connotations and I'll be fine.

But I could. Not. Give. A. Damn. About the play we're supposed to be doing. Translations by Brian Friel. Maybe if I had a teacher with a personality...

It's no big deal. I'm just jaded and cynical and twisted. I'll stop listening to Radiohead, I promise.

So I was a university student, living in a house with quite a few other people, one of whom was Matt Bloc Party. My room was on the top floor, that had a door that lead outside right next to my bed.

Matt Bellamy went to the same uni. He was so very teensy and I used to pick him up and laugh at the way he struggled. I seem to have pissed him off at some point, because I was in my room one day and the door suddenly opens and there's Matt, ragingly peeved, firing a gun at me. I ran away and ended up hiding in Matt's bass drum.

A few days later we're all packing to move house and Matt came round. I opened the door, he's there, and he started making out with me and told me he loved me.



















And then I woke up. Fuck you, conscious.

Ohhhhhhh my goodness.

Got there about 8, met my friend (who'd actually only ever heard Oh My God) and we struggled for a while trying to put on our wristbands. Then we joined the queue - and I'd like to comment here on how very unprofessional Whitey (the guitarist) is. Yes Whitey, we all saw you sneak out the side door into the nearby pub with a fag in your gob, 7 minutes after we were supposed to have been let in.

We weren't too far from the front when we got in. I, however, was incredibly disappointed, cos I knew about Ricky's tendency to throw himself into the front few rows. Which he later did. Oh well.

When they eventually came on, Nick, the drummer, announced his amplifier was broken. So Ricky, stand-up comic that he is, decides to entertain us.

Ricky: This is the point where I say something really witty and you all laugh.
Crowd: Wooooooo!
Ricky: Nick, know any good jokes?
Nick: No, apart from The Bravery.
(yeah, so I love The Bravery, but I laughed like the bitch I am)
Crowd: Woooooooo!
Ricky: Shall we go?
Crowd: Woooooooo!
Ricky: No, I mean, shall we go?
Crowd: Woooooooo!
Ricky: Why all this? We're not Rooster.
Crowd: Wooooooo!
Girl in crowd: Take it off!
Ricky: Pardon?
Nick: Take what off?
GIC: All of it!
Ricky: I will if Whitey will
(and that's alright with me)

They performed the best songs on the album (apart from Saturday Night, sadly) - Na Na Na Na Naa, Everyday I Love You Less and Less, Modern Way, Oh My God, I Predict a Riot and Time Honoured Tradition. With every song, my friend turned round and said 'bloody brilliant,' so I have successfully coverted her.

Kudos to the guy who threw a condom at Ricky at the point of the line 'girls scrabble round with no clothes on, to borrow a pound for a condom' during IPAR, if only because it prompted the response from Ricky 'thanks, but I'm already wearing one.'

I think we were waiting nearly an hour in the queue to meet them afterwards. Friend was hassled by 2 security guards who told her she looked like Sade and Gloria Estefan, which did not work because a) she doesn't, and b) she doesn't. I however was asked if I was planning to murder the band because I had a scarf wrapped around my mouth (still a bit swollen and self-conscious after my op).

But we fiiiinally got there, and the conversation with them went as follows. Interior monologue in between, in brackets.

Ricky: Hello, what's your name?
Me: mphwaglrkhjsn
Ricky: Sorry?
Me: *remove scarf slightly* Sarah.
Ricky: Hello Sarah *writes my name on CD, signs it, shakes my hand*
(ohmygodohmygodohmygodtellhimyoulovehimtellhimyoulovehimheartattackheartattackdeath)
Ricky: Aw, lovely to see you and talk to you Sarah *winks, swigs beer bottle*
(and I am never washing my eyes again)
Peanut: *waves, signs CD*
Me: *waves*
Simon: Hello Sarah *signs*
Me: Hello!
(wow you have lovely eyes, can I touch your hair)
Whitey: Are you Sarah?
Me: Yep!
Whitey: Hello Sarah! *signs, HEUGE smile*
(aaaaaand I've just realised how sexy you are. Smile some more please)
Nick: Hello Sarah, I'm Nick *shakes my hand*
(holymarymotherofgodimcrawlingintheirdna)
Nick: Would you like an apple?
Me: Eh?
Nick: An apple.
Me: An apple?
Nick: An apple.
Me: Erm, okay...
(take a picture, for god's sake, don't let this pass)
Me: Can I take a picture?
Nick: You most certainly can.
Me: *takes picture* Dudes, thanks!
Whitey: No problem.
Nick: There you go, see you later.
Me: Thank you, you rule, byeeee!
Nick/Whitey/Simon: Byeeeeeee!

Top blokes, top night out. Can't wait until the proper concert. I am, however, slightly worried about the crowds t'Chiefs are starting to attract - screaming 14-year-old girls who want some music credibility. I'd rather the Kaiser Chiefs didn't become The Killers if you don't mind.

Pictures as soon as I've uploaded them.

Having never experienced the apparent wonders of Lj before, mucho gracias to bouncymonkey for directing me over here now the Fametracker forums are going bye-bye, just when I'd found a lovely corner of Franz/Libertines/Kaiser Chiefs love on t'internet.

So today was a personal success. I've just recently had an operation on my jaw. Technically, I'm okay, albeit a tad swollen and some aches in my jaw, but it's been just over a week, and I'm, erm, pretty weak. And I had my heart set on going to Oxford Circus nice and early to grab a copy of the Kaiser Chiefs' album; you get a wristband with it to come back later and see them play, get the CD signed, and general merriment is had by all.

First of all, my mum decided she wasn't having any of it, (and because I'm 18, she couldn't stop me from going even if she didn't want me to) and came with me. We left at around 7, and first of all, the bloody train was cancelled. And we ended up waiting nearly half an hour for the next one stopping at Vauxhall. I was panicking and I think mum noticed I'd gone pale and wanted to be all 'ha! In your face!'

Eventually we got to Vauxhall and changed to get the Victoria line. That was running smoothly until it gets to Green Park - one stop away from Oxford Circus - and an announcement comes on saying there's a delay and we might be there for a few minutes. I nearly ran off the train and was all ready to peg it down Oxford Street but I think I may have got the clothes line from mum.

Fiiinally got there and the queue actually wasn't that long. Course - in the wise words of the Zutons - confusion was raining down from on high because no-one was sure if it was that HMV or the one further alonng; if this actually was the Kaiser Kueue; and what we were queuing for (we got asked that by a passing '*scoff* look at these damned blast fools' type. Screw you, man).

Dare I say it, there was a stampede. I pushed and shoved and grabbed the last boxset on the shelf and actually ran for the tills. Only when I got there, I was told it was one wristband per customer, as opposed to the 2 I'd been told. Now this - was bad, as my friend who was coming with me this evening had said she didn't want the album yet as she was skint and she'd only heard Oh My God anyway. So I bought my album, ran back to the shelves and bought another one. 2 wristbands, Robert's your father's brother. I'll just refund the other album later if she really doesn't want it.

But that makes her a fool.

I'll write some more tomorrow, hopefully with some pictures, some stories, and some of Ricky Wilson's DNA in a jar...