Johnny Depp is 47, Office Floods & More

9 Jun

Woah, dlisted just posted this great photo of Johnny Depp in honour of his birthday. As if Depp could get any hotter, here he is holding a really cute puppy!

What’s your favourite Johnny Depp flick? I think mine is Cry Baby, the early Depp years.

Grant and I were in the UK this weekend. We managed to get some tickets for the free Rage Against the Machine gig in Finsbury Park — a celebratory gig in honour of fans voting in Killing in the Name as the Christmas #1 this year. The sore ribs and bruises are a great souvenir of one of the most memorable gigs I’ve ever seen…me, and 40,000 other people.

Shitty that Transport for London didn’t provide any additional tubes or buses since the Tube closes earlier than usual on a Sunday night. Grant and I wandered around for 90 minutes looking for a taxi or a bus to take us back. The night was capped with Grant being pick-pocketed for his phone as he got into taxi. Classy.

For a change, we also had some time to spend in London on our own, so we went to the Natural History Museum. Man, kids sure do love that place and I can’t really blame them.

DINOSAURS. Huge reproductions, real fossils, and a hilarious mechanical, life-sized T-Rex. Plus, those silly mirrors, lots of fake stuffed animals and a life-sized giant blue whale. It was cool, but tiring dodging bugger-eaters and little shouting monsters, so we didn’t even check out the other half of the museum.

It’s still crap that I’ve not checked out any other museums or galleries in London, especially since most of them are free. We’re going to visit NYC for a few days at the end of the summer, and I’m definitely going to make it a priority to see at least ONE cultured thing.

In other news, there was a torrential rainfall today in Amsterdam, and part of the office flooded…unfortunately, it was the storage room. A whole bunch of us rallied together to clear the rooms as quickly as possible, the gush of rain coming in through the ceiling vents, of course, made things a bit tricky. Carrying out wet boxes full of reports in three inches of rain on a slippery floor = recipe for disaster. I made a right fool of myself by slipping and crashing into the water in front of twenty colleagues. Such an Amanda thing to do!

I vowed that I would never, ever, in a million years be wearing Harem pants, and yet, here I am, sitting barefoot at my desk in a pair of borrowed ones. My jeans are still soaked through, drying on the radiator.

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