warmlove's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Snaaaaaaaaaaaakes on my mo' fuckin' plane, mother fucker! *Two hearts feeding/ like a flower/ all this waiting/ For the power/ for some answer/to this fire* Ryan Adams
I'm back in Urine-Town (population: 10, 000 000) in a couple of weeks but I'm just home to fly to the Fringy in wee Scots-land. Yep, flying...in a plane.....with motherfucking snakes (hopefully not) on it. I remember a few years ago getting (semi-viciously) felt-up by a butch Tenerifian (?) Airport security woman because I said, only a little loudly, the word 'GUN' as I was walking through the metal detectors at Costa Del Somethinganother Spanish airport coming back from Tenerife! How unreasonable! Actually all this Terrorism and War shit thats going on, makes me believe all the conspiracy stuff that My (Rasta, often stoned) Uncle Frenchie (Lives in Granmas top floor, above me) tells me. But on one of my very infrequent serious moments, I think how disgusting is it that this country and America fucking order the slaughter of thousands of Afganistani and Iraqi people through this (biggest joke ever: OIL = A huge Cha-Ching baby!) War on Terror thing. War on Terror? Thats like saying 'War on Masturbation" for Gods sake! AND America is giving weapons to Israel to blow up people in Lebanon, while pretending to broker some kind of peace deal in front of the cameras! Its all like Nazi puppet-theatre or something. (whatever that means) The world is majorly fucked-up, so I guess I better go back to writing pointless shit in my diary about that time me and Jessie-Sue saw this guy dressed only in loose grey trackie bottoms, walking towards the tube escalator who was masturbating, two-handed when his trousers started to fall down.... I still aint got no job. I've been: * Hanging out with my Uncles Heavy-drinking mate from Jamaica. The one who was totally, totally wasted at Christmas and (see Christmas 2006 Entry) pleaded with me to give him my black beaded necklace. He is a massive homophone and punched this gay guy in the Laundrette this morning because the guy slapped him after he was sitting on his washing basket! The gay guy, the homophobic Jamaican and my little cousin Beenie are now all barred from Laundromat, Clapham High Street. * Interview at sexy Debenhams, Clapham Junction. I thought it went good, we even talked briefly about Simon Amstell and how I'm no good a juggling - It made sense at the time. I should have heard back by now. Shit
X 10:52 p.m. - 2006-08-12 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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