011208

I have been engaged in extensive research and thought, that’s dangerous I’m better sedated. Wars are commonplace in some lands because some kind souls bestow something to war over.

Anyway onto my endeavors, I consulted a well-known maven on matters philanthropical. I visited her the other evening and chewed the fat over a Pimms, the gardens were in fine order but her neglect of her dirty and feral little retches continue to be anathema to me. We took out her telescope, the one that could study the needs of those it observed, but it appeared dysfunctional only working in very far off lands. She and it were unable to see the squalor prevailing closer to home, and its consequent effects on her charges. She appeared comforted with her compassion for those who were less fortunate than her but was unable to apply this to anything nearer than Africa.

We appear to have created a society that has no understanding of prudence. Nor a government with any idea of how the masses operate, and consequently no ability to resolve the imprudence issues, the ones they appeared to nurture in the first place. Ivorytowersville is never a wise place to pontificate from.

I’m not fond of this modern trend for literary brevity; it will surely lead to rioting in Grosvenor square and the death of quite admirable bombast.

MP arrested for doing his job: A symptom of our society I’m afraid, most already dare not stick their heads above the parapet for fear of totalitarian over reaction, possibly media instigated, mob mentality – a well and truly timorous and head pecked lot. If people don’t notice the continual rat-a-tat-tat on their heads, before long - if not already, the brain will be exposed and consumed with fervor. The media is as ridiculous as it is underhanded, we have created a nation unable to ever articulate their dissent without fear, instead apparently happy to herd.

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
(The Raven, E A Poe 1845)

I lost all my school friends when I moved away from the terrible place I was born in. I lost all my family as they lived in same terrible place, stuck in a land that time forgot. I visited once, the men in the working men’s club were still playing the same game of cribbage as when I left for University some years earlier. Perhaps they were waiting for me to return with my Pure Mathematics degree so that I could solve their scoring conundrum based on integer constructions of 15. It was an awful place, now what was it called, …………. The north!

I have spent a few weekends now hunting and gathering for festive presents, concluded at the weekend. Obligatory visit to Argos for pressies for people who remain un-catered for. What euphoria when your number is called out, like you won something or something - 007, YAY that’s me! I’ve been making my own Christmas wine, bloody office smells like a brewery, office is a brewery actually.

Russell Brand: The world is full of interfering nincompoops that need to get themselves a life that has something in it apart from spoiling everyone else’s. I bestow upon them a Muttley medal for their contribution to sanctimony. I agree Dave, so do I.

Menezes chapter 84: Some appear obsessed with dissecting all events surrounding one unfortunate incident; a simple error or a complex convoluted conspiracy theory? A free land I suppose admirably upholding the sanctity of life, ironically totally opposite to the nihilistic beliefs that are the keystone of the terrorism that perhaps begat the incident.

Can you say that? Well I suppose you did so you can say it, silly question I suppose. I think you may actually have a point, can I say that? Idiot you did.

Public announcement: All us people trying to get by and create a nice environment for ourselves to live in, and for our progeny to thrive in, apologise. We should have been completely feckless and not bothered about getting on and having like nice things, and certainly not doing what is best for our kids future. We shouldn't have eaten all the cake we should have known there would have been a bread shortage. It's our entire fault.


CD 011208

251108

Welcome anonymous internet person, I trust your interest is healthy, your visit fruitful and that you may be at least mildly entertained by the musings herein. It is advisable to begin at the very beginning, it will hopefully become apparent that that is a very good place to start. Certain recurring themes and tales of mirth and merriment feature throughout, so meander down to the bottom of the posts where on 07 June 2005 Camp David's adventure begins. But don't remain there, read on in chronological order and if anything amuses you feel free to steel it and use accordingly or otherwise.

Do not read too much into anything, you may be gifted with self-appointed all knowing knowledge or you may just be naturally quite bright. In either case I trust it will not stand in your way of taking in a few thoughts and mixing them with a few of your own and creating something pleasing. Share that with me if you feel generous enough and reciprocate wildly.

I have not been idle since my enforced exile from our capital city, I have been formulating some wordy stuff on the grand topic of the meaning of life. It may be bollox to you but I have self-appointed importance too. Watch this space.

So trip on down to 070605 and remember to tell me if you find it worthy of your time. There have been some very unpleasant internet nasties follow me about, they are utter twats of the highest order of twattery. I believe if one cannot be pleasant what is the point in continuing on with the interminable struggle that one's life must be in such a dark and dreary place it finds itself. One might consider relieving it forthwith with a trip to CH, but try not to put your loved ones in legal difficulties by requiring assistance. Present company is of course excepted from this necessity. My e-mail is davidch@live.co.uk.

David

Latest

Dear Friends,

Here in my country retreat I have found peace, it's nearly two years since a maniac toured Olde London Towne. He revisits soon to the campdown races to wager on the gray, and quaff champagne and consume oysters in celebration of the wonders of life and exciting future events. There are other musings to follow about the place, perhaps of a more serious nature and dealing with some of the country's present challenges and many personal ones of yesteryears. lifeofcampdavid.blogspot.com and davidsgrave.blogspot.com.

I trust you are all in fine fettle and life is going just swimmingly for you too. I may see you soon if not take care and write to me with the wonderfull secrets of your lives. I will of course blazon them all over the www and plagiarise wildly in order to make my existence seem even fabier than it is.

I know no one can ever understand some things. Our self destruct buttons are still there and God knows why we ever pressed them as often as we have. As life goes on we press them less and thankfully their efect is diminished. Perhaps we just know what we must do to minimise the effects, having experienced such wonders we hopefully choose these to the hunt for the impossible.

Have fun

David xxx

Fin

Greetings,

It is with great regret that I have to inform you of the recent demise of CD who came to an untimely end on the 3rd November. We will not see his likes again perving his way about the tube whilst keeping an eye on organised chicanery and girlie fashion in old London towne. The addled annelids simply ceased to malfunction, the noxious cerebrospinal fluid no longer able to sustain the wrigglers that propagated and perpetuated the multiple personalities. I for one will miss them; they gave me hours of fun particularly in the summer of 2005 when the bizarre abounded. Events shape us, especially cruel ones and David was dealt, what proved to be, the fatal blow back in the spring. With the assistance of good friends George, Mick, Charlie and Brenda a new outlook was found and the end was in sight. A great love was reborn, one that evil can never harm again.

What you saw is what they were, accurate reflections. Submerged in a world of human observation and heavy punk tunes, a maverick now expatriated to a Damp Cave. I can’t tell you how much I pissed myself laughing writing that shit over the last 18 months. Thanks to all who commented and I’m glad that so many enjoyed it, it’s worrying that some thought it pretty normal and ‘what we all think’ anyway. Ah well, life moves inexorably on, new challenges and experiences. Best not look back and reminisce.

Slip inside the eye of your mind
Don’t you know you might find
A better place to play

Better, for sure. A new chapter begins, Carpe Diem.

Many years have come and gone
I've lived my life, but now must move on
(Gather ye rosebuds while ye may)
She is my only one, now that my time has come
Now that my life is done, we look into the sun
"Seize the day and don't you cry, now it's time to say good-bye
Even though, I'll be gone, I will live on, live on"

The end, of Dream Theater indeed.

David Shaw 1st December 2006

140906

Good Day Friends, apologies for being a lazy arse lately, I’m having me a fab time. I’ll be moving on from this place soon and hopefully there will be more interesting opportunities to observe the complexities of human misbehaviour. It was good recently to trip back to Geneve to see some old friends and pass on some words of research wisdom. I also had the chance to go to Basel where sometime ago I grew something very special and despite my recent lunacy it remains stronger than ever.

I’ve been travelling in early to WC2 and exploring the area in between there and Baker St, watching the changing shape of our great Capital. I have also made some special friends down the Edgar Wallace who I will most definitely keep in touch with. You should try this pub, hospitality, quality beer and food and a very different atmosphere. So to my day.

It’s hot on the met this morning and at Rayners lane the 6-person compartment is full, the final addition of curry breath is unwelcome. The mixture of sardines, sweat, garlic and cumin is not pleasant. Indian Summer, well I do live near Wembley? The proper summer has not been wasted, well done girls those legs are lovely and tanned.

Goth Chick opposite has MP3 admirably loud; enough for me to tell it’s an admirable choice of music. I forgot mine this morning trying to get a bit of USB juice into it, else we could have had stereo mental to haunt the Grannies.

So Goth, 2 Garlics, a Granny and a Soduku with a gelled spikey top. Grow up mate, gel is for kids and so is buggering UKU. I’d given up reading the metro as curry boy seemed impatient at being a sardine with all the usual sardine accompaniments. I receive a few tuts and looks as I fiddle with the paper and find the soduku puzzle and flatten the paper a few times to get attention. Granny and Goth opposite are monitoring me and they continue to glance at my apparent inability to do any of the silly thing. The observers observe a few more times and the apparently unable feigns perplexity. A few minutes more and they are watching me write letters in the margin, ‘what the hell is he doing Gran?’ As quickly as possible, I fill in all the boxes with random numbers. Within 30 seconds the puzzle appears complete, I fold the paper and audibly state ‘that’s that then’.

By Wembley the carriage is full, bit like proper London eh? The majority is in the balance, bit like London too. Big fat woman is in the isle, donned with pink-pig jog suit top, is ‘glowing’ in the heat. No doubt got big bones, and great masses of lard.

News recently, the number of failed asylum seekers not deported could be 400-450 thousand, loads more Eastern EU friends than anticipated, and up to 10 more planes than might have been. A-levels up as expected, unemployment too. Blair to go, Brown likely to take over, I’d like to see a challenge to the spud-faced jock myself. I don’t think we should tolerate his 60’s porn-star hair and his hung-over slitty eyes. Bring back the Ginger for the Minger, now that was a guy who knew about hangovers. WAGs blamed for world cup failure, how the hell could you take penalties in those shoes? Wossname Theo's bird got an A-level in 'critical thinking'. I understand some people have these, but listen guys it's not a real qualification? I prefer Chinese critical thinking myself, that thing's fab innit; hours of fun. Stephen Fry : My suicide attempts. He had a diagnosis that explained the massive highs and miserable lows, welcome to my nightmare.

Baker St and Goth loses all credibility as she plays with what turns out to be pink ipod. I thought it would be at least black with possibly barbed wire trim. Tres Petite though, but that doesn’t interest me this day.

The escalators at Embankment station are not offering the opportunities, I used to imagine I had at Piccadilly, this morning.. This could be real or perceived after all I have taken a step up in class and with my stroll down Oxford Street I have been known to pop into John Lewis to explore the escalator action of the other half. All the walking was designed to make by body a temple but with all the drinking as well it's just my legs that are gorgeous. My foundations are those of a temple and the rest is crumbling around them.

You know all the Australian guys living a mental life in London wouldn’t it be great to do a spoof of the Osbournes around them, called the Ozzy Borns? Has anyone?

I wrote to a friend yesterday with tales of mirth and merriment that is my life recently. They wrote back with some bad stuff about theirs, I was slightly comforted by the fact that bad things do not only happen to me.


Until later, David 140906

140706

Morning Campers,

Another day, another dollar, the daily fight through the crowd that is now London. Johnny F, Happy Family; such interesting if slightly annoying approaches to disrupting my day with random walk patterns. Early start, kitted with 'fear and loathing' glasses I switch on WC2 cruise control device thingie.

The heat is making the rest of the population irritable too it seems. Girls the fashions are not compatible with the gutters of my brain. In the news, Mother 40 has triplets then quads – Ouch! Odds are 800,000 to 1 and she wasn’t even taking fertility drugs. Angela and Alfredo Magdaleno (Beautiful British names meaning not from round ‘ere – Murray) are planning one better next time. ‘We have always been followers of Pythagorean theories’ said Alfie. Until recently it has not been clear as to the origins of his nickname ‘The Pythan’.

I watched Mississississippi Burning last night, it was recommended by one of my Millwall footy fan, good friends. Picture of Beirut on the front of the metro this morning seemed similar. Don’t you find that certain types are easy to adapt any stimuli to their position, no doubt I’m a total racist because I watched this film or perhaps that I did so because it was recommended to do so by a total racist or maybe just that I have such good friends. So-called intelligent people find it difficult to get passed the first stimuli without removing head from arse and attacking. The self proclaimed “independent, able to think for herself” woman perhaps, can’t get beyond the first stimuli. Try this one “I like you, you’re lovely. You screwed my life you bitch”. I think it will be OK but look out for meat axe, send pics if I’m wrong.

Another bombing of innocent civilians, takes me back to last year when I spent an expensive night in the Thistle Charing Cross (£400) and my loved ones (like tens of thousands of others) spent all day panicking not knowing what was happening.

You think they give a f*ck about us you’re a fool
Born in New York
Born in London
Born in Madrid
Born in Bombay
Born Dead.

On with the (Body Count)

I woke pre-dawn, things floating around flirting with my insecurities
Your face was silhouetted, towards me, barely distinguishable
I imagined your eyes opened from their darker hollows and smiled
The familiar smile that tells me all about your thoughts and that all’s OK
A gasp of your breath made me feel reassured, that nothing else mattered
Just being like this, truly madly deeply with you.

CD 140706

Florida May 2006

Hello Campers,

I’ve been away for a week in Florida and thought I’d bring you some observations of revellers seen around the keys off Sarasota. It had been a fraught last few months and I wanted to rediscover my frail insanity and make my life feel happy that we were complete once more. As usual all are fair game, don’t take things seriously just sort them out.

Arrived Saturday (17th) evening flying into Tampa and driving south across the sunshine skyway IS275. Sunday was Fathers day in the land of the free and the usual breakfast places were heaving with family action. No booze on offer until 12.00, but it didn’t stop us looking into a liquor store window and dribbling, ‘No Solicitors’; I should think not. Petrol was retailing at 289 and 9/10’s cents per gallon, that’s amazing given UK prices not to mention a little vulgar. Lou Dobbs on CNN, he wouldn’t get away with that on our TV – ‘Illegal Alien’; 10 million of them and they can vote if they have a utility bill in some states.

I never knew this but when in tropical parts shuffling whilst in the water can save you a lot of pain from a stinging ray. Bit like life really, best not take too big a strides or some metaphorical bottom dweller will have a swipe thinking, with some sort of twisted rational, that you’re stepping on it. We never saw any ‘cartilage fish’, well no oceanic varieties.

Monday I went for a short jog, 73 degrees at 7.30am, walked back. The next day I went out jogging again and once more ambled home along the shore. I found three love shells none of which were adequate and were in reality meagre, insignificant, unworthy offerings but they were lovingly rinsed in the sea. They were given and received knowing this was special.

During one of the earlier evenings I overheard a convo between some doggy people, all bestowing superhuman qualities on their pampered pooches and purrfect pussies. How loud these people are and it doesn’t seem to require alcohol to induce such strident exchanges. “My cat’s just a Darling, she looks after the kids”. WTF, does it change nappies or make tea or is it a herding type mog? At the risk of offending some pussy/poochy fans, oh go on then, It’s damn silly attributing powers to dumb animals and is best left to the middle aged fat history teacher who can’t get such sniffs from a human connect. A side conversation was initiated, some poor acquaintance had every disease imaginable, dysplasia, hyperplasia, I can’t tell ya how it fazes ya.

I did observe much ‘server’ behaviour; Daniel my ‘servant’ at Flemings was my first victim. I wished I could be so excited about an initial glass of water or rapturous, if not orgasmic, about getting the bill for me. “I’ll be right back with that lovely, juicy well-proportioned bill for you sir”, OK Camp Danny. There was a distraction at a neighbouring table in the form of an interaction between a younger well cared for Woman and a sweeter older Man. She spent almost the whole meal on the phone whilst he ate all. Nipped and tucked, pert and pouted, there was no way she was gonna let the ‘bank manager’ incommode her. Perhaps it was Angela her secret lesbian lover or Angelo her homosexual hairdressing brother. Perhaps it was stuck to her ear? Maybe he was a bugger for the beer or possibly Angelo was his queer dear. Anyway Flemings was good, valet parking too, but maybe that was one more source of embarrassment at our inexperience of tipping etiquette.

On two separate occasions some tourists asked me to take their photo, are my guts really that big? Do I whine through my nose? At both junctures I felt it appropriate to cut off all their heads, they’ll never make that mistake again, no.

Two sizes of American it seems. There was a plethora of fat families, all seemingly continually armed with easy sources of carbs just in case the blood sugar dipped dangerously. Is the ice age coming to Florida, is it prudent to obtain subcutaneous fat storage just in case? One wonders if there is the need for an afternoon visit to Publix to the meat counter. “Fifteen pounds of pork chops please, gotta fat family”. Was so pleased topless bathing is not allowed, never mind topless that would have been double waistless.

The weekends were complete with Mums with young children. “What are you looking at you skinny ass English boy?” - difficult one. “I am Mother superior, I have the bazoooms to feed the worlds hungry. See my enlarged hips and rounded ass I can balance my little one here whilst I eat to replete”. Has the feline babysitter got a fat ass too Momma? There is no doubt that she is one of the army of supreme baby making machines but you have to wonder how she got anyone to do her. Is there sufficient ethanolic content in Sam Adams Boston Ale? Perhaps a touch of Methanol would assist with the eyesight requirements too

By Florida Law one has to ‘Yield’ to pedestrians, fine for not doing so is $112.50. That’s a strange choice free people. Yep free to take the piss by pretending to require yieldment. I approach a crossing at St Armands circle at a preparatory pre-yield pace, “I’m just standing here with my pretty little ass eating this ice cream because I can – I do not require offspring or to feed the world yet, my body is not preparing for global cooling”. She turns her gaze from my motor and looks back “Now where’s my husband, don’t dawdle honey – YIELD”, bitch she got me.

I used to go over to Florida often up until about 7 years gone. There used to be this fab heavy/punk metal music shop. They would introduce me to all sorts of new American aggressive music. Can’t recall what it was called but when I visited there on Tamiami Trial it was gone. I would not learn of potential ‘Life of Agony’, ‘Boy Sets Fire’, ‘Snapcase’, ‘Deftones’, ‘Inside Out’ type groups this year; grow-up. I listened to Adrenaline at this shop for the first time many years earlier and thought I’d heard the greatest album ever, not quite but not so far off.

The day before we left we went down to our favourite part of deserted beach where some days earlier we had swam amongst a shoal of thousands of fish (only about 2 inch or so each). The water was fizzing at that time and it was an amazing event. This final day I saw my darling sit on the deserted beach, with fag in hand, on a large piece of driftwood, which protruded out of the shallow waters by about 18 inches. She looked so beautiful and happy and I concluded I was the happiest man on earth once more.

D 270606

090506

Morning Campers,

Alternative views of the news and observations from the tubes. I keep this diary to record the wonderful secrets of my life and to later marvel at the juxtaposition of all the wonderful peoples therein.

Ickenham station, I nearly miss the train busily being enthralled at the nine smashing blouses of Desperate Eva. I had just missed one already upon arrival and to miss another would surely expose me to comment on the platform. I take my seat on the Piccadilly today bound for Holborn. In the metro apart from Eva of course, Bird flu has been contained in Fife and has not spread to the larger bird population. Goes without saying the H5N1 strain is not easily passed to humans. Also north of the border, Dumfries has been chosen to try out the proposed switch to Digital TV. Better not collect subjective assessments from the guinea pigs of Scotland’s most southerly point, they resemble caviamen.

I was walking down Oxford St yesterday morning in the lashing rain, handing off anyone unsure of their course. I trod on a loose slab and water and grime shot up my trouser leg ensuring my continued discomfort on my journey above stations on the central line.

I’m at Rayners and all the seats are taken, half the seated are wearing glasses, low self-esteem clearly prevails today. In matters of importance style not sincerity is the important thing, get some lenses ffs! Pretty young lass receives a text, folds her metro, removes the sunglasses from her hair into handbag, reads and instantly replies. No smiles it must be a nuisance texter or she is devoid of emotions this morning and playing evil games. How cruel particularly when the weather is so charming. He didn’t want to bother the witch this morning, what a lesson for him I trust he will profit from it. Quality flip-flops, stop hammer time.

Nicely groomed old lady sits opposite; reminds me of the ladies in the village hall at polling last week. All in a row in their best frocks at 7 in the morning, one smiles and proceeds to spoil my ballot paper by placing my listed number onto it. I point out and she announces to the hall that she has spoiled the vote. I get another this time without said number link, tick the right answers and thank the ladies, how charming.

Killingwithkindness.co.uk don’t give to homeless they may be using it to kill themselves with drugs.

A young Asian girl is sat next to me and scribbling on a piece of paper, looks like work rather than rantings of the insane. She is not careful with her pen and on one occasion she touches my shirt, no mark. She comes dangerously close to my summery coloured chinos with pen, this will probably lead to violence in Grosvenor Square.

Off at Holborn and follow an oriental girl onto the very large escalator, isn’t it amazing how much coverage one step offers with some victims? Into the office, ‘5th floor going down’. I’m in good time so I want to hear more of what is on offer from the lift voice. I press 4, 3, 2, 1 and 0 for a nice start to the day.

Quotes from The Importance of Being Earnest (O Wilde).

CD 090506

030206

I've been walking from Baker Street to work in the mornings, wakes me up and gets me thinking. Usually catch the 06.15 getting into Baker just before 7. Marylebone underpass is absent of sleepers these days a few choosing to do shop doorways and a few on early Big Issue duties, are the doorways on Oxford Street any warmer one wonders. Distinct lack of females at this time in the morning. As I'm approaching the platform Crawling, Linkin Park, comes on the MP3 and I press track repeat. It occurs to me that it would be a good intro to a film with someone walking down Oxford Street on a frosty morning observing the contrast between the opulence and the survival. It seems to have been hinted at in Henry Rollins video of Disconnect some years ago (93?) and possibly copied by the Verve.

It's a metaphor for another contrast, that between existence and true happiness, dependent upon understanding that the contrast exists. The lyrics of crawling can be interpretated in many ways, as can Orestes (A Perfect Circle) or possibly Drive (Far Away) (Deftones), inducing mental comparison. Still I had Crawling repeating past Bond Street, Oxford Circus, Tottenham Court Road, Holborn, The Strand and down to the river. It appealed to me to have the lyrics of one song repeating over a 50 minute or so walk and thinking about how the sights fitted in with the images it created.

Just before TCR on the left hand side is a Pret and I've noticed at that time a meeting of the staff in a big circle with the boss addressing. A rah rah rah meeting akin to the sales staff in a car sales showroom perhaps or a holiday timeshare demo. I wonder what the gong, when someone buys an espresso, might be. Outside the Dominion I'm approached by a scouse man with some coppers in his hand which he holds out, 'have you got a 10p mate for the phone?' I rummage, I haven't, I have a pound and a 2p in my hand.'Could you spare the pound mate?' No.

That would be a tinny of super, I wonder if there's a team of ex-scallys working the area and what the gong might be when they achieve 'a tinny'. Maybe a chain of Special Brew empties, to be jangled when a 'sale' is made. Along Kingsway there are a plethora of after rah-rah coffee houses all frequented at 07.30 in the morning, Why? Have the chains become too heavy?

His horns are hidden we surmise, a devil in disguise.

131205

Morning Camp’ers

Late this morning again, checked the petrol store in the shed but I think I would have known if I’d lost it. Not sure though as worms were well sedated last night. Is there panic buying yet, better stock up on the vodka?

I’ve just discovered the world is full of women (again), I hope the hell they’re not reading this. I sat next to some smelly pissy old bloke on the tube and it got me thinking. What would happen if I didn’t get to the Bakerloo on time? Anyway there will always be grannies willing to overlook odour I hope, have own teeth and a little hair left ladies. I do hope potential future grinners don’t know about my imaginary escalator foreplay action, they might find it a bit strange, if not a bit odorous.

Thought it time to update my requirements of women. This was something I broached back in the summer; call me fickle but here goes. 10 things a bloke requires of a woman : Small, all ov um, read earlier you lazy people. OK here goes

Date Expectations section. 5 things Girls Expect of Boys (according to Metro) – No vest, tasteful socks, tasteful jewellery, no purse, pay for the greedy bitch – don’t be tight.

10 things Boys Expect of Girls (David) – Smashing vest, pouting lips, small hands, stockings, no draws, tells you she’s no draws, let’s you play with her small hands, has twin sister with small hands and no draws, has latino looks and an oriental identical twin sister.

I was on the tube the other day and a really ugly granny was sat opposite me and she kept scowling at me, I've been here before. She finally built up the courage to catch my eye and asked me if I could turn the volume on my MP3 down a bit. That was really brave given the mental shit I was listening too and my well known intolerance in the mornings. I complied and retorted, could you turn down the ugly. She was not pleased.

I can’t believe how funny you found the demise of my parents, bastards.

'I know the meaning of life, it doesn’t help me a bit'. That was a fruitless search IMHO.

CD 131205

091205

Morning campers,

I’ve been lying low and working hard, lots of trips away. Fallen in love 137 times in November alone and this hormonally imbalanced period has had a profound effect on my music.

Daylight has gone somewhere and the lords have been playing with time, they know not what forces they are tampering with. Drag self out of bed, no rodent offerings for some time now, think that rocket up her arse last month sorted that out. Met is bit busier, CD a little later. Asian bloke in suit sits opposite, full 60 degree genital display, snoozing and no doubt dreaming he’s an asset to the gene pool.

Life in London continues at a furious pace. Have been putting worms through detox recently, isn’t reality scary, it was best to keep life expectations sedated too. However they have now been released and are stinging me mercilessly.

Try out fast Baker Street train switching at Harrow on Hill. Join an already packed booth, remove Metro from seat and place above before sitting. I’m aware drab woman is watching from across the way, you should sort those roots out love. She scowls at me, quickly I realise it’s not my magnetism that’s her concern, it’s my Faith no More. Look love it’s a good job I’m feeling good today, I’ll overlook your gentle art and comply, once, commiserations on your hair. She has curtain ring wedding trophy and no accompanying sparklers. She glances a few more times and I think maybe she’s assessing. “Coconut neck thingy, worn leather jacket and fab hat, now that’s a bit different, not sure about the Sainsbury’s bag though. Big boy, give him a smile”. Look Darling I like little ones but come on try a wonderbra. ‘Bit different’? I think you’ll find it’s indulgence in ostentatious display sweetheart.

By Finchley, my music has reached the hormonal selection. Seems a lot of oldies today and I’m being scowled at so I crank it up a few notches. They don’t seem to be liking Rob Dougan : “Like a sentence of death, I’ve got no options left, …, and if you go furious angels will bring you back to me, they’ll bring you back to me”. Or is it “… furious grannies scowl at me, they hate my MP3”?

Arrived at work and checked image in lift mirror. Oh no rogue nose hair, quickly grab it and yank, “bastard”, yank, yank, “bastard”, yank, “gottcha bleeder”. Oh no another one, yank, yank, …. Tears steaming from eyes by now, lift door opens one before my floor, girl gets in and looks at my sorry moist cheeks. Bet she felt sorry for me thinking I’d had domestic, or granny had died or I was just a sensitive guy. If only she knew.

A few years ago my old Mum had her leg chopped off. Some years earlier my Dad had both of his off. Seems we have a serious family medical history problem when it comes to amputations. In preparation I’ve started walking around the house on my knees, preparing and toughening potential future stumps. I told a friend who proceeded to piss themselves laughing at my Mums demise and before the full horror of the story had unfolded. Good job I chose to tell the Mum bit before my Dads, I hated the bitch but Dad was lovely.

CD 9th Dec 2005

031005

Hi Campers,

Well here we are and it’s well into boot wearing season and of course inherent in that is kinky, all female boots are to some degree. Little tip ladies, and I’d suggest wearing no tights, or black tights, or better still brown/black legs and no tights, short skirts go without saying.

Off to see Amsterdam this evening, some would say the best rock band about at the moment, other more discerning rockers would of course counter with Tool/Perfect Circle. Anyway http://www.amsterdam-music.com/ is my duty.

In the news K Clarke, he’s ‘the beast that can win the tories power’. Better increase the atenolol to 100 if you want him to survive to the next election. ‘Finger up bum’ ad is OK to show before 9 as long as ‘squishy’ noises are removed. Look the squishy things that go through my mind on the tube before 7 in the morning would not even get Ricky’s support. George Best is feeling better, lock up your fame hungry daughters. 12 year olds caught up in ‘epidemic of illiteracy’, is this news then? I say make sure they can count to 10, pat them on the head before patting the teachers on the back for improved GCSE pass rates.

Beautiful black girl with IPOD, is she listening to K West and dreaming of his and her offspring dancing like half-wits showing all 10 digits. He’s intellectually challenged darling and not worthy of contributing to the gene pool. She’s off at Rayners Lane to stand and wait for the Piccadilly line with what appear to be more attractive people than on the met today.

‘Voices told knifeman to attack the English’. I listen to Mr Rollins most days and I have never had the urge myself. Maybe he’s been listening to Henry ‘Bakri’ Rollins?

There were two young Indian girls sitting opposite me from Rayners Lane to Baker St, they were so pretty and fresh faced and must have been up before they went to bed to get that effect with the makeup and hair. They were chatting and joking happily whilst I occasionally watched, and listened to Tool. Just pure beauty, and no perv desired.

Approaching Baker Street and I get up and without thinking wiggle in time to Die Laughing (Therapy?) whilst hitching up trousers and straightening shirt. Old lady across the way looks at me as if “I’ve gone insane and can’t remember my own name”. Out of Baker and ugly girl behind me has loud clip clop shoes, out of time with the beat and my head banging to Teethgrinder, she’s getting on my nerves. I stop to make a note “Who’s that trip-trapping over my music”.

Marylebone Road is a race to get across before the opposite side changes from green man. Reminds me of men racing at traffic lights to get one ahead, boys always try to race me but I don’t play too often. I don’t think men ever grow up not even 4x4 cardy-man. Weekend; I was driving down the Uxbridge Road towards Uxbridge and I pulled up at lights on the inside of a huge Tonka toy, he was itching to go and demonstrate the prowess of his 4L with added testosterone. I’m not racing but I don’t hang about, up to 50 (40 limit) and steady he fly’s past me a second or so later. Gets round of applause from CD, he thinks that will show the loser in his red thing wossname and I really need another Labrador.

Avoided the Marylebone subway as recently there have been quite a few homeless down there and it does smell badly of piss. One was awake and two sleeping the other day, avec cardboard boxes. What was the difference between the path I trod to get to telling idiot stories on the internet and living well and these guys? I think luck played a huge part, maybe they had choices but maybe no real choices. What makes us what we are and who says they are not as happy as I. Grace of God?, well thank you sir.

Kinky’s everywhere down Oxford Street, all shapes and sizes, and windows full of them. Girl is waiting outside Selfridges with half calf kinky’s, just hangin’ around. “Big girl in the red dress, she's just trying to impress us, and she's got the barley fever, but she doesn't make a sound”. Jimmy Choos have some quality ones but I think a smooth ‘shoulder’ bit on the back of the calves would be practical.

Thank you all for the kind comments or just forum chats, it’s been real fun. Especially Exy, John D, Julie H, Ross, Spirituel, Poet, Patroclus, Jon, Zain, JJ, Artemesi, Hezzie, Nat Mystic and Giggles.

More News : 14 year old boy lived home alone for a week whilst his Father was taken into Hospital. Social services nor his Mother were aware until the school alerted. I wonder if that boy will be able to write shite on the internet innocently ripping the piss, or be more concerned about his next cardboard box?

http://lifeofcampdavid.blogspot.com/

210905

Hi all,

I went off to the pub at lunch as one does sometimes. After figuring out that the Australian barmaid was speaking English I ordered a Directors. She is absolutely gorgeous and her small hands didn’t seem quite enough to encircle my receptacle and flatteringly she almost needed two hands to manage. I order a big burger and sit down to contemplate the uses all those little things could be put to. After a suitable calming down period I dare to stand up and get another beer, she suspects nothing apart from I might have a drink problem. I have cream chinos on today so I’d better not get too excited.

My burger arrives avec frites, seductively delivered with both hands. Half way through, Jesus appears in my burger but before I realise I’ve taken half his head off. My blood alcohol must be dangerously low and I order another Directors. I’ve just wiped out SW1’s equivalent of the Turin shroud and I better watch myself with this damn burger. A few more munches in and Elvis appears, it’s an old Elvis as he takes up quite a substantial portion. The Directors has taken over and I munch him whole thinking bring on Mother Teresa. Despite my newly acquired taste for holy images Mother T doesn’t materialise. I leave the frites, loveliness asks me if I don’t like them, I say they’re not healthy. She looks at my half empty third pint and absence of 12 oz burger, smiles and probably gets it for once. Just as she’s picking up the plate I notice Mother Teresa in a crinkle cut chip, too late I’ll have to wait until tomorrow to complete the set.

Have a pee and set off back to work. Bloody dribbles and cream trousers are not compatible and un-tuck my shirt to cover embarrassment.

CD 210905

200905

Morning campers,

It’s a dark, dark day. Reality has dawned; the autumn of everything has arrived, the 20th of September appears to be where I am in my life. I’ve been so enjoying the summer fashions too, and there’s no mid-life crisis to look forward to, already had it.

In to work late via the Met and the Bakerdilly stroll, wasn’t interested in people watching today too wrapped up with my life dilemma. “I wanna disconnect myself, pull my brain stem out and unplug myself, I want nothing right now”. I chew it over with a more positive one of my selves. Look how old are you Campy 42, 43, you look much younger? September 20th mate and it’s because I’m a fat bastard. It’s payday soon; it’ll all seem better then surely? Bloody hell, end of September that’s almost old – by next pay day I better start thinking about the Christmas of life, avoiding inheritance tax and making a will and stuff. What are you gonna do for Christmas? Probably dribble down my chin uncontrollably. (Disconnect – Rollins)

It’s Wembley before I notice and segregation is established once more. Nice looking Asian girl in nurses uniform sits opposite, probably lovely hands and lips but who cares right now. She’ll probably be wiping my arse soon. A starey scarey looking N African man is peering over the barrier and glaring at me. “Don’t like the look of it, don’t like the taste of it, don’t like the smell of it”, you’re mistaking me for someone who cares mate. “ hey pig piggy pig pig pig, all your fears come true”, he’s getting on my nerves now. Are you pissed that I have a seat or is it a fundamental sort of problem you have? Nevermind “the pigs have won tonight, they can all sleep soundly and everything is all right”. He’s off at Finchley Road as is nursey, and an Asian man now sits opposite. He’s got a back sack between his legs, I reduce my 30 degrees to zero but can’t help thinking that might not stop my balls being reunited with my brains via a more direct route than the usual hormonal. (March of the Pigs – NIN).

Can’t face escalator rejection so even though I’m late I take the stroll. In a better frame by New Bond St, one of the Mannequins in Fenwick is clinging onto summer admirably and displaying fine chest. Look love come out here in the cold and we can see the full effect. Jimmy’s has full range of kinky’s girls. Regent Street and an ugly pregnant woman comes towards me, see there’s someone for everyone and even though she’s better looking than me she’s got a bigger belly. Maybe life isn’t so bad?

Towards P Circus, and a small tanned thirty something exposing some chest and more flat tummy walks towards me. She’s got a lovely little belly chain from her button, all in all absolutely gorgeous. I’ll have to reassess my dilemma status, at least I have my raving heterosexuality to keep me company.

CD 200905

160905

Morning campers,

16th Sept and couldn’t sleep, bloody zombie making cat left another rodent brain on the landing. Prior celebratory banshee howls a giveaway and the cause of my premature awakening. Spoke to some nice people on the channel4 nocturnal activities forum.

Daddy long legs deters me from showering too early, where are the zombie mice insect eating army when you need them. I wonder if they would eat or just de-brain it, difficult to tell I suppose if a daddy LL is normal or zombie. Looks like I’ll have to wash it down the plug hole and run the risk of it laying millions of eggs in my drains thereby producing and even greater infestation next year.

I’ve just got back from my latest travels and I can report that there are not four horsemen at the acropolis, can also report Athens is a dirty smelly hole. Missed the Test match, why didn’t McGrath hire a dingy ? 5-0, I think you’ll find it was 1-2 – do the descent thing. Return journey 12th Sept to Heathrow, no quality ‘ashes souvenir’ newspapers on Olympic but real woman stewardess and monster ‘lay down’ seats, puts BA to shame (no food and the same leg room as economy). The only thing that could have ruined the return journey would have been Gate Gourmet food, how the hell can a bunch of part-time sandwich makers hold the country to ransom? Is it a skill we need to import? I look around and everyone’s got a pink paper except me, no comment from me today then.

The daddy LL spider is one of the most poisonous in the world; fortunately its fangs are not long enough to pierce human skin. That’s good news for those washing those things down the shower hole, no chance it will come back to have your toe off. Eventually pluck up enough courage to take a shower and wash the residual rodent cerebral fluid from the bottom of my foot.

Take the 6.30 Met, fat woman is the only one in my section, metal in nose enhances effect. Yesterday I was a little late up, took the Bakerloo and couldn’t help thinking about escalator foreplay variations. It’s a while but I haven’t lost the positioning touch. I position myself behind a well-clad young girl and in front of older more sophisticated lady. I am a few steps back from the lass and able to move up and down the steps for full effect. Imagine the possibilities, one moves up my front as the other down my back then turn around – mmmmm!. How one-dimensional it has been of me not to consider sandwich escalator foreplay action.

Olympic real woman was very smiley and Mumsy, never mind the headsets dear where’s the Syrah? The food smells fab I’d love Mezze washed down with rich red just now. Smiley furnishes me with a table cloth, her teeth are quite a fright, but she’s clearly proud of them. Young pretty woman with flip-flops is in the seat next to me by the window. Middle (3rd) toes seem extremely long and are quite hammered, I will be soon hopefully. Why did the reporters at Heathrow not ask Glenn why he wasn’t departing from Portsmouth?

I see Germany might be getting a female premier, likened to Mrs T. No likeness is apparent to me, Spiel mit mir Frau T. There are 16.5 million Greeks apparently, with 6.5 in Athens, of whom 1.5 are Albanians. My taxi driver told me they cause all the trouble, but now it's nowhere near as bad as it was around 93-94. Why did they go south to smellsville when England’s not far. Koizumi in again, for god sake get the sheep shears out!

I notice OA259 is heading for Albanian airspace, few empty seats in the quality section. Could we not stop off and get a few of our very own to throw in the melting pot? There is a shortage of hand car washing skills afterall, “Truth is, truth is blind”. Bloke in next seats has huge belly whilst small glutimous maximus – pies, beer and family car me thinks.

I love Italy, women and coffee are so important. I used to live (in Rixensart) next to a Waloon woman who had crazily married an Italian bloke. He came home hammered from the bar most evenings, get himself a litre of chianti, perch in the tree whilst consuming vino, then sleeps it all off in the tree. That’s living but woman who appreciates finer aspects of dangerous drinking sports is required.

No smiles for miles and wine dangerously low. Free wine on demand, “this wonderful world of purchase power”. I had this great idea whilst watching the skymap: What if instead of the mercator projection we adopted the cricket projection of the earth. This had the centre of the N Hemisphere as the Oval whilst New Zealand was expanded to cover where wossname used to be. We have our very own King Cnut who sat at the seashore at Portsmouth ordering the boat not to come in. I liked Warner this time, he’s been living in civilisation afterall.

Dear Captain, could you please alert me when we pass over Milano and Torino, I’d like to raise my glass to the most beautiful women in the world. If you could then let me know when we are in the proximity of Lugano I can dribble some more. Fatboy is snoring just as Zach spews out matrix rant. Too many 5 star pies mate, “How long not long, coz what you reap is what you sow”. Turbulence, hit the harrier button Skip, idiot hits the seat belt signs button instead. This could be a bumpy landing. I wonder how one says play with me in Greek? MC goes to the loo, she looks more attractive now and I dare to look at her hands. I was worried that her middle finger would be much too long and I might develop some strange finger fetish.

The gay Dalek got banned from Ch4 forums, the least offensive alien being known, I can only assume the mods are cybermen.

Anyway this morning strolling through Oxford Street, all are quite uninteresting. Selfridges windows are all covered which I discover on the evening stroll is because of the autumn collection being prepared. One very attractive lady comes towards me and dares to show a lovely small cleavage. “What are you looking at big boy, I do like a man with a hat”, that will be a beautiful woman I’m looking at dear and thanks I like it. “I wonder if he tries hard in bed and sweats a lot”, given half a chance I’d drown you in it darling. Black man selling big issue, surely that’s “the biggest most important (and it's all your fault) issue” isn’t it in your case mate.

There has been no furious angel activity unfortunately and I have to question their existence or just maybe they’re a little hacked off with me as well. Annelids taken quite a marinating this week.

CD 160805

060905

Morning ‘Camp’ers,

More random thoughts brought to you from UB10 to SW1. I don’t mean more-random thoughts but more of the random thoughts like the ones before. Well you can’t get more random than random afterall.

A dull day after the last couple and in two minds whether to tube all the way or take the Bakerdilly stroll. I’ve done both recently as I’m finding it difficult to sleep at the prescribed times and have to avoid being late too often. Thank heavens the school holidays are over and the full compliment of beautiful people are out once again showing off their loveliness before summer ends. “Capitalism has made it this way, old-fashioned fascism will take it away”.

Lovely tanned lean bodies all teasing away, and the white girls have tried hard too. Well some have but others need to discover fake tan, white is not this years tan girls. Look even piggy has tried a little, putting himself out lying in the sun being periodically woken by large mammal roars. I notice out of the window at one of the earlier stations a new R&B Massive poster with a not dissimilar girl to before. I check if my tongue is rough enough just in case it’s her.

Kayne West and Destiny’s Child, who the hell is KW apart from some loud mouthed yob that said somebody doesn’t care about a group of people? I guess he’s now a hero amongst the victimhood. Very dodgy lyrics about drug dealing and his ‘nigga’ mates, finger on the pulse – yeah right? Anyway it’s rap for Gods sake, no screechy guitars and basically crap exploitation of immature minds. http://www.beyonce-knowles.com/ however, I am prepared to overlook her musical sort of styleee.

A white girl and an intelligent looking Asian girl (with glasses) sit opposite me. Next to me is young man who gives full genital area trouser display; I don’t think the girls are interested mate. I personally think a 30-degree spread is gentlemanly whilst allowing sufficient aeration, in Caucasian male at least. Nobody’s suspicious of the contents of my plastic bag this morning as my tan is long shaved off. Asian girl looks with quality disdain at 90-degrees, “I think I’ll have to move further out, riff raff are even getting into Eastcote these days. Now look at 30-degrees he’s obviously a quality Ickenham man”. That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever thought about me on the met and so perceptive. I now feel bad about beginning to cruelly sketch her on the metro, which I hurriedly turn over.

Given my recent run in with the PC police, I thought I’d better look at the white girl more than IQ. She’s blond with multi pinstriped trousers and designer white pointy shoes, she notices me looking but manages not to change her expression. Her hips seem slightly wider than her frame would suggest she should have. My eyes are drawn repeatedly to this physical attribute; I wonder whether it’s a real phenomenon or a met seat subcutaneous fat compacted Jodhpur anomaly. She notices me again, “Does my arse look big in these?” No dear it’s just fascinating me in a useful, wish I’d done a PhD thesis in arses, sort of way. Just as my neglect is being noticed by IQ, and I’m about to get embroiled in another prejudice claim, shapely pinstriped bottom gets off at Finchley Rd resolving the great mystery.

She is replaced by young Asian boy, God knows where I look now. Breaking News : A man was arrested today for a racially aggravated imaginary offence involving a minor. He pleaded, “won’t do it again” to the lesser charge of racially motivated neglect of Asian honey.

Segregation returns to the met in the mornings with white people acquiring the seats between Uxbridge and Rayners and all others having to stand by the doors. An old Indian lady, standing, glances at me over the top of the barrier and repeats the sneaks continuously. “What is that fool wearing his shades on the train for, and we’re going into the tunnels”. It’s just before Baker St and I’m thinking isn’t it dark in the tunnels especially with my shades on. Isn’t nosey granny difficult to see in the dark too? The carriage lights offer a similar comfort offered to young children by the landing light.

I decide to do the Bakerdilly stroll. There appears a proliferation of beggars this morning. “Hey you, are you trying to be mean? You live with apes man, it's hard to be clean”.

I’m reminded of a holiday memory: We’re about 3 hours into our flight and woman ahead is having leg stretch, jog bottoms and pop socks and no shoes. Ankles indicate refusal to listen to Dr Hilary Jones or heed his leg exercise advice. I notice a whole in one of her socks on the bridge of the foot, must be hot rock burn as it's small and round. Effeminate steward passes, keep your gaydar off me mate. I notice hot rock pop sock has not tried hard today and appears to be modelling herself on Zelda off terrahawks. She has MP3, I imagine what she might listen to but content myself with seeking a tune on mine appropriate for her. Mr HRPS has a SPORT logo on his t-shirt, I don’t think so mate.
http://images-eu.amazon.com/images/P/B0000AV3G6.02.LZZZZZZZ.jpg
Whilst on holiday I listened to tons of mental music but I have to say the best rock musical piece I have ever heard and continue to hear over again is A Change of Seasons – Dream Theater (all 27 mins). I have quoted from it many times and will again.

Down Baker Street I see the massive sale is over and I can see the window display, nice normal sized frocks!!! The bank of Kuwait at Portman square has an orderly queue of 14 people (Men) outside the door at 8.10 in the morning. I’ve noticed this before on the later strolls I’ve done – cannot offer any pearls. The girls are clinging onto the summer admirably. They’re only contractions of connective tissues papillae at the base of hairs in response to unexpected stimuli, harmless and really quite cute. Mia has moved to Selfridges window display, still gorgeous but refuses to dance in the street anymore. It’s funny how mannequins change once they have scaled the social ladder. She still shamelessly flaunts it, but now she’s moving in better circles and humiliatingly ignores me most mornings. Conclusive proof is, as in affluent human circles, that her chest seems the odd size bigger.

I notice my plastic bag, it’s in fact an M&S one is suffering from internally induced injuries. Too many sharp objects, well too many objects really. I haven’t sold out, whilst appreciating the quality in said bag I owe it to my roots to lose pens all around the west end and return to the ubiquitous Tesco bag.

A tall slim older lady is walking ahead of me up Regent Street, she’s very well dressed, I notice tiny little bulges above and below the bra and above the skirt enhancing the real effect. So much better than one great one from chest to arse like mine.

“Life was filled with wonder, I felt the warm wind blow
I must explore the boundaries, transcend the depth of winters snow
Innocence caressing me, I never felt so young before
There was so much life in me, still I longed to search for more” - Mike Portnoy

CD 060905.

300805

Morning ‘Camp’ers,

Back from hols and recharged, I’d like to say lovely and tanned but I don’t do tanned very well, but crackling a little rosie this morning. Lovely clear fresh day and clear fresh unlovely mind. Cursory look at the metro, yeah that will be useful later.

Rayners Lane and great big fat bloke plonks down, he’s the first in the 6 booth with me, absolutely stinks of garlic. West Harrow we’re joined by spangley flip flop with plethora of finger metal, small and unremarkable. She sits opposite me and takes dismissive glance at plump ripe garlic. She yawns uncovered and glances at me, “I wonder if piggy likes my dainty little demonstration of tiredness, actually I think I’ve seen him before he doesn’t look quite as pink today”. You better be careful love, evil spirits will get in without correct use of hand. Several minutes later she repeats incorrect demo, “I wonder if he’s trying to assimilate the local population by becoming more tanned”, there’s no way I’m gonna integrate enough to show my tired tonsils off darling.

It’s Finchley Road and I get my opportunity to exhibit proper yawning etiquette, and whilst on a role I display correct morning tube breath by breathing in Big Boys direction. See fatty, SR yes garlic NO. I get off at Baker Street as does NSR, he’s not a pretty site and I demonstrate correct procedure for holding guts in. I’m not sure he’d get all that in his pants anyway.

I thought I’d share a holiday observation or two with you throughout the coming weeks. This one was one on I think the first full day in paradise. I’m used to Americans in the Caribbean and their lovely not so little ways. The pool is large and has a walk in 10 metre section that remains shallow enough to wallow in. The pool is split by a series of bridges, the under side of which could provide a natural habitat for some of these people. Back in the shallows, several American men are forming a Walrus club and splashing about. One very large juvenile pup appears to be able already to completely balance on his guts and paddle around.

The bulls get increasingly raucous, this is perhaps them calling out to the females. Some of the attentive cows are in good shape and I wonder if it's the security offered by mass stored blubber that's the attraction. "Come wit it now! Bulls on parade!" The pup is swinging from the pool basketball post and his grip slips, he crashes to the floor. He’s whelping uncontrollably but why did he not bounce? Post lunch pinniped activity is delayed as the club is late back from lunch, well you don’t get to be a tooth-walker by snacking.

Back in West London, out the station and I notice the same usual guy begging just down a little way from the tube on Baker Street, only a few pennies in his box that’s not gonna keep his companion in chum. Just another 50 metres and another sat on the floor cap in hand, no chum required for this one.

Walking down through the west end, usual route I notice that the girls have really tried hard today and deserve tremendous applause on the fashion front. It is appreciated more than you know. Coffee Republic, South Molton St, seems the place to hang out for lovely ladies when the weather’s fab.

No queues at Jimmy Choos, but I have been away and am a little late this morning. No one seems to have taken the kinky boots to bed yet.

Piccadilly and even though there’s a fresh breeze I am aware of slight overheating. A week of Walrus food and inactivity has surely resulted in deposits of lard in my lower limbs increasing the strain on my cardiovascular system. Over a week off, what’s the office got in store today?

CD 300806

170805

Morning ‘Camp’ers,

Summer’s back and all those lovely proud people out there just asking for it. Only two more days and I’m off on hols, gorgeous legs but the rest is still streaky. A few days in the sun and a few cocktails and I’ll look the same inside and out.

I was at a wedding at the weekend, dancing like my Dad’s Dad no doubt. Not a bad day for the weather, so some lovely frocks out and about. Aren’t older ladies fun at do’s, they just don’t care, “these things have fed the nation and I’m gonna show everyone how lovely they still are”. They could feed two nations these days Darling and by the way I’m in favour of surrogate Mothering. You would think they’d be happy to make Jelly these days rather than simulate the effect on the dance floor, perfect simple harmonic motion. I only joke, they are lovely. It was like dancing with my Mums friend , averting eyes and thoughts of course – just the odd mental note.

Met was pretty busy today, not full but it has been half empty at circa 7.15-30 usually. Was joined early in my booth by Pavarotti so didn’t hold out much hope for observations as his presence resulted in partial eclipse. He departed and young girl (mid 20’s) joined, two charity bands yellow and green. I don’t know if that means anything, well apart from she like gives to charity. I’m not sure why people want to show that off when a Gucci-darling looks much better and says something.

I’ve started making notes on my hand as Metro is useful in the toilet these days, besides I need glasses to read and ‘specky’ is not the image I wish to promote. If I did I’d go the whole hog and get some wrist bands as well. Girlie stops and looks at me making hand notes, does she know it’s about her or maybe even wish it were? “What is the idiot doing, is he admiring my very fashionable bowling type shoes and reporting for the metro on latest tube fashions?” As I have previously said there is an alarming trend in girlie footwear, stilettos or quality flip flops with skirts are preferable.

Psycho on bike nearly takes me out jumping lights down Baker Street, CD delivers “Wanker”. He looks back and slows down presumably to remonstrate, instead makes mental note ”fncking hell he’s big”, and continues.

See Michael Buerk’s been making himself popular with the ladies, “Men are increasingly being seen as ‘sperm donors’”. It’s an important start in life. He’s been railing against women in top jobs, your donating services are not required henceforth mate.

Smiley Sotheby’s man not there this morning and ahead I see no queue for shags. Vivienne Westwood shop has bizarre mannequin display; stuff looks a bit dodgy but more interesting are stripy dummy heads. Imagine the works night out clubbing, if they’d get let in with that tat on? Moray fringes everywhere.


CD 170805

150805

Morning ‘Camp’ers,

Been AWOL for a week or so, research – well OK lazy shit. Back to bring you snippets of alternative news and London early morning life.

Yesterday Swakeleys, brown vision, strapless top with required adequate strapless support. She’s such a tease standing so far away down the platform, looks like I’ll have to go and have closer inspection. Absolutely gorgeous, glossed lips, small face, well everything small except voluptuousness. She works out, slim strong arms and filthy clavicles. She sits at the end of one booth and I at the end of the next booth diagonally opposite, a discrete ogling distance away.

Bloody metro’s useless, never mind I’ll make the news up. She’s glancing up from time to time, “now that’s man sized”. Thanks love, I wonder to myself - is gravity being obeyed today? Birkenstock presentation of small feet, how thoughtful of the Germans to consider normal sized people.

Gay Dalek molests punters in pub. Drunken, gay alien barred from his local after molesting male drinkers with plunger. He’s a damn nuisance said the landlord; he can’t keep the thing away from the boys. I’d love to hear a camp EXTERMINATE, might frighten the children though? It’s a ‘personality disturbance’ involving incorrect use of said appendage, bit like humans eh? I say lock him in the cupboard, he shouldn’t have come out in the first place.

She prepares to get off at Finchley road, “I’ve got seconds to live, you can’t go now. But if you go furious angels will bring you back to me”. But she does, “She turned for one last look, She looked me in the eye, I said, I Love You... Good-bye”. I lose her in the platform crowd, thank goodness for furious angels.

Man appears in court on serial race hate charge. David Camp of Uxbridge, Middlesex, was caught on CCTV over a period of two months looking at Asian ladies on the metropolitan line. He pleaded, “Won’t do it again”, yeah right. Well I'll try and get it down from a 600% increase.

“You see a bunch of assholes that live in this part of the building here, could we systematically remove them like you would any kind of termite, roach or Bakri”. – Tool, Opiate.

“Oxford Street, 7.15 the sun blazing down the road creating silhouettes of early morning people. Girls that gap between the legs is not attractive, skirts required for stick insects please. The Selfridges window display is fab and worth a visit, Mrs Wallaces everywhere, developing art display on the corner of Orchard and Oxford is really catchy. I can’t for the life of me see why for the D&G pin striped suit extra-small is displayed (that’s effeminate size). They, D and G, are not together anymore, would you trust those two to make a mans suit? I read this morning that fury greets erect nipples TV advert, a female mannequin gets aroused after ride in car, I need to tune into ITV from time to time. I catch my reflection in a window, my Borsalino is looking a bit worn and ooharr’y. Size 60 D&G that’s a proper head.

Tanning boards out early, is it so one can go for a little top up before the morning board meeting? Jimmy Choos have Kinky boots in window and no queue awaiting me. I’ll have to try an alternative chat up, ‘Kinky boots for shag’? Well goes without saying really.

CD 150805

040805

Morning ‘Camp’ers,

Momentous day, Piccadilly line is reopened. One arrives first and poor woman misses it having legged-it down Swakeleys stairs. There’ll be another one along soon there hasn’t been one for 4 weeks and ‘isn’t it always like that’? No, Met arrives disproving old wives theory.

Latest news : Tube suspect is charged by Italians – not properly guys, give the chair more volts!. 600% increase in religious hate crime, I could be responsible for all of that, when does an ogle become a hate crime? Of the hundreds of Asian lovelies I’ve looked at there’s the ones I’ve also thought about hurting, in a manly, loving, non-hateful sort of way of course.

Sean Kelly out after 8 or so years in jail, that’s about 10months for each of the 10 people he murdered. But it’s OK because the IRA says they ‘won’t do it again’. Perhaps they could reform the penal system in line with this; how do you plead, guilty, not guilty or won’t do it again? I hear you get 3-5 years these days for nicking someone’s mobile phone in an aggravated fashion. Millions too poor to buy food from full market in Niger. Thinks of well know adage “Charity begins 1000’s of miles away”.

Baker Street: No signs of perfect ‘dusky maiden’ WPCs today. Discriminatory recruitment policy unfortunately not working.

Courier van pulls up outside HSBC on Baker Street – no unloading stripes, CD spots traffic warden in distance I stop, observe and think what a great thing immigration has done getting people in to do jobs that the indigenous population won’t do.

Further down a pretty girl with flowery dress passes by, she’s exposing lots of chest and it’s jiggling quite some. “They’re damn fine don’t you think piggy?” Indeed they are and there’s no harm in being proud, but do you think they’re appropriate exhibits for an office environment? Imagine if all across London girls were being irresponsible and selfishly not thinking about productivity and economic indicators. “Look, a girl’s gotta do what a girls gotta do to get Jimmy Choos Shoes” Well perhaps I can help you out there love, “Shoes for Sh“, but she’s gone before I can finish and I’ll perhaps never know. I wonder how male productivity in her office will be today, perhaps a company cardy scheme would be wise or maybe an addendum to her office door name plate to save speculation at least. *** A Proudchest, 36C, no bra or nicks *** - that should sort out the shoes also love. If not New Bond St, 8.15 tomorrow morning.

Tanning sale on Oxford Street, hey I’ll smack bottoms for free girls.

Walking down Regent Street I think how useful a pig rating-scale for big people would be. I’ve been working on conversion from streaky to back (bacon) myself but I’m only on shoulder at the moment. I really think a cheap cut suits me best though. That reminds me I did see an enormous extra streaky with flip-flops on the met this morning, but I’ll save you the trotter stories.

CD 040805

010805

Morning ‘Camp’ers,

Fun news this weekend and interesting to follow the views of folk on the news forums. Some people will reel off one apology after the next and let’s face it find just about any excuse to excuse the inexcusable. Someone asked if the 21st July’ers would have preferred to have been blown up? Which would you prefer, to look at just your wife’s eyes once a week for the rest of your life with the occasional buggering or 72 Virgins to work your way through?

Calls for the woman who fired the airgun at the ground, when she should have been shooting yobs, to get her job back. I say reinstate her and give her a proper gun and some training, she's a lousy shot.

Duck heaven around the end of the Met line this morning, in two minds whether to tube all the way to the Dilly or continue the work on the gorgeousness of my legs.

Rayners Lane and two enormous black women join me in my 6-booth. The one opposite must be the chiefs senior wife as she takes up almost half the whole seat with her pampered behind. I try to catch an accent but it’s impossible to hear through Loaded (Pulkas). Number 1 sneers over at me, “Call that a man, what’s a girl supposed to do with that skinny white ass? 100 kg’s of white boy is no good to a real wooomaarn”. She get’s off at Finchley Road and leaves number 2, I imagine she needs a bio break due to her blood ‘rice and peas’ levels becoming dangerously low. I see ad’ for datingdirect.co.uk, what other sort is there? datingproxy.co.uk sounds no fun.

Middle aged quality woman is across the way, stilettos showing off 4 slightly wrinkled toe cleavages. Damn sexy but take care ladies of a certain age not to squeeze tits in in similar fashion, not sure that works as well?

I was in some large store on Saturday, one of the ones resembling a jumble sale at this time of the year, the ones that attract all the wrong sort. Disposable tee shirts required for imminent holiday, the type that you don’t mind getting Piz on, is my excuse. Woman with two brats and piss-smelling Zelda Granny seem to be following me around.

Baker St : I decide to walk - surprisingly it’s not raining, and indeed for the remainder of my early morning stroll. The size 30 French designer shop is having a ‘massive sale’, unnecessary tautology – CD realizes he has fallen into same trap and uses unnecessary unnecessarily. Man in White full-length dress and sandals with headgear outside Kuwait Airlines, no camel in sight.

8am on Oxford St is pretty quiet. CD hums in anticipation: “You could see that Pierre did truly love the madamoiselle”. But Next have “Further reductions” blackout and I’m unable to see Mia. ”C'est la vie", say the old folks, it goes to show you never can tell. “Further reductions” on AA? - that would be Boy. Never mind, the honies in the ZARA display had previously taken my eye, how fickle is that of the newly categorized skinny arsed pink pig? Benetton also have great display, nothing here for you chiefy.

Isn’t it fun watching foreigners try and negotiate the roads of W1/SW1? Follow Pinky guys.

CD 010805

280705

Morning ‘Camp’ers,

"… the box was no sooner opened, than all these ills flew out, in the guise of horrid little brown-winged creatures, closely resembling moths. These little insects fluttered about, alighting, some upon Epimetheus, who had just entered, and some upon Pandora, pricking and stinging them most unmercifully. They then flew out through the open door and windows, and fastened upon the merrymakers without, whose shouts of joy were soon changed into wails of pain and anguish."

Hacked off with propaganda ridden, apologist metro giving space to men with beards. Looked briefly beyond first 5 pages of shite to find that giant squid are cannibals, even eating each other on the job. You couldn’t trust me with a giant beak either. Interview with Mark E Smith – Hello sir. Fast forwards MP3 to Fall section and is instantly amused by “sarcastic tone-deaf ranting and minimalist art-noise”. Did you kill Nigel Kennedy in the end mate?

Jamie dishes up help to Africans, he’s training two guys from South Africa to cook. Idea is so that they can go home and pass on their skills, or stay in London restaurant more likely and bollocks to starvation - anyway some of these English birds need fattening up. Better idea, send them all the crap school dinners Jamie.

Before I have noticed it my booth is full of Asian guys, all trained in Anti-Mujahadeen techniques involving sitting in vacant seats, not staring at white people and reading the metro.

I was Sarah says 30 year old man - who married a 70 year old granny. He says it’s an ordinary life and whoever gets up first (him or Gran) chooses the nicks and puts out two pairs. Well the second pair will be useful to stick on your head to cover up your breve mate. What other thoughts have you received through the organ on your forehead?

Walking down Baker St I recalled that a few days ago, I think Tuesday 26th, I saw loads of horses trotting down Oxford St, circa 8am. Must have been about 60 of them, 20% down on usual no doubt? Can you imagine the discussion in the field early that morning? “Look Ed there’s no way I’m going down town looking in the shops today, you never know what might happen. I could be trotting down Oxford St and completely without reason I might bolt and jump the Bond St ticket barriers, and I don’t understand a word of English. Besides see that Italian looking mare with small hoves over there, she’s got her oriental twin filly coming over this afternoon”. I believe neither of them wears saddlecloths.

Walking across Marylebone Road, I reduce pace to follow lovely jeans with metal chain type belt. What a waste of a good restraint. Reed 20K, you’re having a laugh, Bairstow eves - how much? Who would pay that to live in this shithole? I get to Portman square and my eyes are strangely drawn across the road to large chested girl, I wonder how she stays upright? My gaze lowers and I find impressive counter balance on reverse side. I saw a pair of fishnets yesterday and followed onto the train, fine wobbly chest too – nice presentation. I wonder if the fishnets are part of nicer presentation or just cheap window dressing?

Selfridges male Mannequin displaying Dior evening Jacket, looks a bit poofy and has pearl string dangling from top pocket. Could work at parties but I prefer Black feather Boa. http://www.ostrichesonline.com/. Round of applause for Fenwicks window display, I gave up seeing Mia to come down here (New Bond St) and it is worth it boys. D&G display also quality.

Further down I though of a great chat up line/tactic for quality birds, bit expensive but you get what you pay for afterall. Stand outside Jimmy Choos and await inevitable passing of quality ladies, “shoes for shag love”? They have a half price sale, might only cost you £400. Conduit St - Kinzia, smashing evening frocks, small firm chests tastefully displayed but no head. OK perhaps not appropriate on a first date.

So many police at all the stations today, bloody marvellous but can we have less uniform for the WPCs please?

CD 280705

250705

Morning ‘Camp’ers,

Due to events I have been reviewing my diary. Last Thursday I came into work early and the train was once again full of workmen.

There was nothing to report until the Dilly where a woman pushes in front of me on the first escalator, I take the length of the escalator wrestling with the idea that she is a willing partner in my filthy game. I’m looking forward to enjoying an experience on next flight but a younger girl pushes between us and stands provocatively with either leg on different levels. That ensures one buttock appears larger than the other and gathers to form a handle at the elevated side, she’s played this game before. Is it too easy or have neglected women latched onto this game in an attempt to get compensatory early-morning thrills. Was I ever in control or were they using me, I don’t feel dirty? The thrill of the chase is diminished; but who cares everyone knows it's the ensuing scrum that matters.

Of course that night I was forced to take a stroll to Baker Street by some more bastards with beards. I know Mr and Mrs Blair are avid readers so right Tony what you gonna do about it? Hold them down like Italian footballers and use the sheep shears I suggest would be a good start. Maybe it was time for a change as since returning from Geneva in the New Year I’ve put on a few pounds and perhaps the stroll through W1 would do me good? Directors and three-quarter pounders at the Captains Table haven’t helped. Just over three weeks to my hols, Sitges should resurrect some personality disturbances; Summer appears to be making me into a raving hetero.

Was on the Met this morning and some young Asian guy (with small glasses of course) was standing by the doors. He glares around the place I believe trying to look menacing, “the carriages are half empty mate stop pretending to be from hezbollah and sit the fuck down”. I have become aware that so many people carry quite large bags now, look if it won’t go into a Tesco bag use two.

Menopace for hot sweats, oooooh ! 40 year old hot bodies, arses in the air at night - can I help. Off for another wander through some more salubrious parts of town.

Baker Street French designer wear, up to size 30 and 50% off - over three times the desired size for half the price, bargain. Got a bit hot and sweaty that’ll teach me for being a fat bastard.

I have found a new pastime, mannequin watching. I can in no way be thorough in my review just now but I can see this developing into a must for aspiring window-dressers. Some are really sexy aren’t they and they are all invariably A or AA, saves on productions costs I suppose. I prefer them with heads and hair as Kryton with smashing blouse doesn’t do it for me. Benetton have shaved birds, River Island and Kookai have shaved ethnic birds. This morning, Kookai had a see through top with a bra underneath, what for? My favourite today was Next, and in particular one foxy little Mrs Wallace lookalike. I ogled at her for ages imagining I was Vincent - * CD makes imaginary finger V’s, dancing with Mia to You never can tell”.

Isn’t perfection crap, well apart from Mia of course? Isn’t it better to explore the imperfections, and the effect those imperfections have had, in a human being? I saw loads of lovely imperfect smiley women down Regent Street, think yourself lucky ladies I’ve met a few perfect ones and they have nothing at all of interest.

Sanyo, nearly there, I’ll have gorgeous legs soon. Woman handing out ‘Ms London’ thinks the pink pig is a bit sweaty this morning, it’s half way across London love.

CD 250705

200705

Mourning ‘Camp’ers,

Is over and risqué comment returns, have avoided the news for obvious reasons. Look out!

Kookai dress featured in Mondays post. Rang Selfridges they didn’t have it in, but it’s only 8-16 and no petite. I’m size 26 and non-petite so didn’t really bother me. Anyway who wants to see a size 14 or over non-petite bird in a sexy dress, who wants to see a back-row sized bloke in one?

Front page pretty rapper MIA, fled to Britain when 10 knowing 5 words of English. Apple, mango, elephant and of course Michael Jackson. Correction that will be 1 darling - Apple. Sienna cries off at Wyndham’s theatre. I think I need me a plan to get a nanny called Daisy – “CLASSIFIED : Professional man seeks small partner to buy fab dresses for with a view to strange relationship, eventually strange family and holidays with Kids and Daisy our fab Nanny”.

Chancellor accused of fiddling figures, less pies mate. Rayners Lane – man with Jockey Wilson shirt, less pies mate. Tyndall dies, was to appear in court with one-eye tomorrow on race hate charges. Rest assured John, they bloody hate us all right.

Yes, yes I’ll turn it down, ever thought of electrolysis dear. I’ve seen you before haven’t I, still out of make-up - try Wickes? “Sanatarium, leave me be”.

Livingstone – “West must take some blame”, come on who voted for the tosser? CD amuses himself with trying to draw OBL beard and Hitler tash on picture of our pet fool, unfortunately degree in Mathematics is not good grounding for this activity. Further amused by making beard out of Greek letters as have good grounding in these. Xi was always my fave and seems perfectly suited to curly beard action. Lost interest in finding suitable symbol for tash of fuehrer, coffee time fun maybe.

Pretty Asian girl opposite has been playing with mobile since getting on at Ruislip, bollywood boyfriend type text action no doubt? Mia Farrow defends Polanski over seduction claims, she looks great at 60 until CD embellishes with Xi beard in attempt to recreate bearded lady who gets off at Finchley Rd. I was and still am damn good at Xi, I think it’s the challenge.

Close to Baker Street and a moth flutters around in the light and is strangely drawn to CD. It lands on my paper and from there climbs onto my thumb and settles. It’s a light golden colour and the size of a 2p. I’m aware others are aware and after a period of inquisitive examination I nonchalantly continue to read my paper. It doesn’t move for some time, I wonder if they think I’m NW London’s Jame Gumb. It moves across my hand and underneath my fingers hunting for dark. I’m beginning to scare myself I hate the fucking things and just now it could be ripping my palm flesh away. Calmly I wrap up my metro and the flesh eater is disturbed and flutters away, relief all around – that was fun.

Black woman in nurses uniform coming up the stairs at Baker Street platform 3/4 is met by sardonic smile. “Thanks for propping up the NHS but could you try harder please”. Sardine-aloo. “They keep us locked up in the cage, can’t they see that’s why my brain says rage? Sanatarium”

CD 200705

180705

Morning ‘Camp’ers,

A little look at the news and more real life.

Interesting Friday evening I had in town. Obviously foreign, type person left bag on lower Regent Street Friday afternoon causing mayhem - Small controlled explosion resulting in smalls over SW1. Worms took a bashing whilst drinking with quality but loud Scottish friend at Paddington then Soho, aye, aye, aye, aye, aye, aye, trigger happy, aye, aye, aye. Late train from Baker Street, little snooze - woke up an hour and a half later, at Baker Street. Later train from Baker Street more successful in returning me CD Manor.

Lonely weekend, I’ve pissed everyone off except puss who lovingly left me a zombie rodent on the landing. No sign of brainless army from under the floorboards. Abstemious Monday morning, quite remarkable and slightly worrying.

In the news: We had an Afghan warlord who had a ‘human dog’ in our midst, and 3 asylum Taliban fighters I recall. Have we checked for Mullah Omar around Hackney? Is Daffyd to blame for rise in gay slurs? Nah, they’ve always been figures of fun, shut that door.

I noticed how women glower at other women, it’s mostly the slim gorgeous ones doing the glaring. Lighten up honies it’s you we’re looking at not the chubbies.

Pale girl with small solitaire, cheapskate boyfriend. Variety of ringless other women who obviously have a better appreciation of the relative value of diamonds compared with the obviously fake adoration associated with purchase of cheap trinkets. Met population fluid today, exodus at H on Hill in desire to get to work 3 minutes earlier by standing all the way across west London.

Sardines at Bakerloo, I just get on by adopting shape of closing door. Try not to breath too heavily near neck of slim young lady with strappy top, lovely skin and fab tan. Fat girl asks if I want to change places as she’s ‘shorter than me’. That's nice, but are you mad woman the rhythmic motion causing minor collisions between CD and strappy top is the highlight is my life just now.

Picked up ‘Ms London’ outside the Dilly from smiley woman, not sure whether it was a “he’s obviously a perv” or “he’s gay” smile but a nice change from foreign boy. Dreamy dress on page 9 boys, girls get down to Kookai (Oxford St, Bond St Tube).

“I love you all very much”.

CD 180705

140705

Good Morning ‘Camp’ers,

A look at the metro life today and a little look at the news.

Pandora’s box remains open. Police Line do not cross – It’s grim up north. Deport radical Muslim Clerics; any ugly people I say, and any blokes with ponytails. I’m not a fan of football, don’t the Jessie’s just want to make you hold them down and use the sheep shears.

Cranked up the volume this morning, if they don’t like it they can get their own. I was coming home the other day and it didn’t seem loud but three beer-drinking lads, in the standing only section, were looking at me and mimic dancing. Fore and little fingers in the air guys if you want to be serious about this, and show a little more respect it’s Rollins.

Shuttle launch halted – fuel gauge fault. You don’t wanna run out do you, although it’s all downhill on the way back so they could just drift home. Anyway just fill her up. Later there’s a description of a worm-hole with picture. Looks like CT scan of CD’s brain apart from 3-D picture would reveal advanced structure of Einstein-Rosen Bridge action.

Lovely looking Indian girl sitting opposite and 4 school girls in neighbouring booth. French polished nails, although shows effort and breeding it’s not that attractive is it boys, give me meretricious paint any day? Quality school kids get off at H on Hill and as one all hitch their skirts up a few more inches.

I’ve been receiving only few comments back – sado, weirdo, perv that sort of stuff. But “getting stuff outta yuse, is like blood outta stone”.

Late 70’s A’level student in grimsville, I used to go in a working mens club playing snooker. A quid and 4p would get me 4 pints of Boddingtons. Some years later I returned to see same people playing maybe same game of cribbage, all just 20 years older and fatter. Some turn their heads and say “Alright Dave” and continue on their game as if I’ve never been away. Maybe they’ve been waiting for me to return armed with degree in Mathematics to assist them in bringing the game to a sublime conclusion.

CD 140705

110705

Good Morning ‘Camp’ers,

A look at the metro life today. News : Pandora’s box is open. “If one guy's colours and the other's don't mix, their gonna bash it up, bash it up, bash it up, bash it up”.

Britain has heatwave again, I will be producing my usual range/excess of attractive aroma today. Mental range of excessive music also “fa fa fa fa fa fa fa fa fa far better run run run run run run run away”.

Tiny Asian girl, flowing skirt, size 6 everything except for size 3/4 feet. Sitting diagonally opposite and so have good chance, in case of any slack in blouse, to observe very sought after AA’s. Fab shoes girls but better lips, and very small mouth - she looks back, “Does this size 6 petite designer skirt make my bum look big? “What’s the pig looking at he’s got bigger tits than me?” – “Quest Que Cest?”

“Look into the mirror now tell me what you see, when you see yourself then you’ll see me” – Rollins.

Aged couple, flowery grey and tanned paunch. She’s on the end of one and he on the other side end, she has her back to us talking to hubby, “We are vain and we are blind, I hate people when they’re not polite”. He’s obviously worked hard on developing his appearance but she is thin and grey; grow some middle-aged things dear!

Oldish well-groomed woman is opposite; stellar constellation type necklace seems so familiar. She’s looking at my notes and smiles no doubt thinking “He’s quite attractive in a younger man, pink piggish sort of way, I wonder if he grunts and snorts when looking for truffles in well established and mature undergrowth?” Hey whatever it takes I need to breath love. Area is refreshed in their desire for fast Baker Street Train at Harrow Hill, women - so capricious.

Suddenly with introduction of Sepultura the music seems to get louder and newly acquired dull family are all looking at me, ‘ugly kid, Mum and Daddy’. CD replies with dismissive, repulsed glance, only 1 ugly child was responsible. Dad has ring showing insane level of commitment, Mum has eternity - he doesn’t look that old, but I’m sure it seems a long sentence. He’s probably one of those guys who push the supermarket trolley thinking about suicide and screaming within “Crawling in my skin, these wounds they will not heal”. Mast. Dull looks at MP3 and thinks if only I could listen to that shit I too could have a deranged, don’t mess with me expression. He for sure also wouldn’t tiredly lean on Mums cushioned shoulder ffs, and would realise the cold hard metal of the windowsill is the only real alternative in life. But somehow I feel he’s not quite ready for Mr Rollins, “I used to have a mind, I used to wonder why, but now I go from day to day and wait around to die, like he did”

Girl sleeping with larger breasts, fine clavicles, strangely soothing, and of course a safe place to catch dribbles.

Onto Bakerloo, mans armpit until Oxford Street. Standing to the Dilly, step on toe of very large lady with soothing chest, smiles she smiles back. She thinks I’m glad big boy didn’t do a proper job, I think I’m glad you’re sitting.

Spy ideal escalator girl ahead but there’s no way I can get close and have to settle for ankle height. Maybe if I try hard she’ll choose me for the next escalator but no I obviously need more lower limb foreplay experience to impress, it was not good for her. It was not good for me Darling with two blokes in between.

CD 110705

070705

Good morning ‘Camp’ers,

A little look at today’s news and a large look at those reading it.

Olympics fab. Green shower gel called ‘wake-up’ has appeared and was quite nice but I was awake already. Wandered over the A40 Bridge, Inertia going in and nothing going out – London’s full I think. It would have been a walk over if Beaconsfield or the Chalfonts had put in an Olympic bid.

Booth is full of women by Harrow on the Hill. Opposite is plain woman with flat what look like round end school shoes with strap and buckle. I have noticed an alarming trend for these very unflattering things, nothing wrong with pointy and high, shows off shapely legs best. Tall and full figured oriental girl next with long hair down to L4, big hands suggesting all is not as it perhaps seems. Next to the Laydee is ugly girl, make an effort dear. Next to me is very small Asian girl, very pretty and lovely fingers and nails – CD gives mental round of applause. Isn’t kissing small hands in public romantic? Next to her is fat white legs from which it seems impossible to avert my gaze or stop thinking of gooseberries. Woman in sit-stand place by the single door is putting her make-up on, full face and full marks for making an effort. I think ugly girl should get up and let her sit down, but she is clearly not telepathic or maybe not receptive to psychic cursing ‘get up bitch’.

Blair supports ‘rant’ adviser. Ms Casey – Get rid of her and get 18 stone of idiot. Angel Dust on MP3, what have Faith no more got to add today?

I think I need me a new bag; it’s been a good one though, lasted about two weeks. You know sometimes (even with new ones) when the pens start to break through and create Tesco porcupine, it’s downhill fast, the holes just get bigger and bigger and the whole thing just falls to pieces. “This is what all things come to, come to pieces in our hands”.

See you tonight girls, you - try harder and you - get a bic.

Man with tea cosy on head is ahead on stairs at Baker St, fermenting dreads. Spy reflection in window, does this (inappropriate for today’s weather) summary shirt make my belly look big? Don’t be stupid you just need a beer.

Bakerloo is fairly full but waiting for some reason, idiots waiting just outside doors so can’t get on. Move a few carriages up and find a way through, moved down the carriage to allow people on, and observed. 4 small chests, nice presentation, yeah life’s alright after all. “Squash me, until I’m smaller and smaller and smaller”. A few gift rapped A’s get off at Oxford Street but at least I get a seat.

Trecky trousers and flip flops just not doing it for me on the escalator but spy desirable lumbar region running in parallel. All my manoeuvring skills required and manage to get in pole position on second escalator. Was worth it had me a ‘Massive R&B girl’ imaginary cat grooming experience.

By the time this was written, the news had broke and maybe it’s not funny anymore. Take care everyone. Had the opportunity to talk to Stephen Trainee at Thistle Charing Cross, thanks mate I enjoyed that. Steve, I was the pissed one with the tesco bag, I couldn't get rid it's like an old friend.

CD 070705

050706

Hello ‘Campers’,

Been a hectic time nurturing some deep and dark thoughts, well actually I’ve been permanently pissed. Live 8 was the start of my probs, played Cricket all day raced back and dream come true Mariah was on. Isn’t she just gorgeous, beautiful hands and that hair tantalizingly strewn all over perfect fake chest? Shaggy hair experience, woohoo!

Don’t recall much more apart from pissing the neighbours off dancing on the roof. Oh and getting banned from Channel 4 forums again, tossers! I do have a few ‘personality disturbances’ of congenital origin that I have grown into good friends. One of me just can’t stop themselves sometimes from being an obnoxious arsehole.

Well what did you think of Live 8? Music was a bit tame but at least it wasn’t the music from the conservatory of England. Closest I ever got was Sepultura, not quite the same aye? “War for territory”, ooh perhaps it is the same.

Did catch a few news stories in the midst of all my taras. Napoleon battled to learn English, Parli view frogsays? Having a shower can cause brain damage, due to manganese a hazardous metal, confounded by hazardous metal on MP3 in my case. Pulkas were really underrated some of me think and some other me’s think they were cockney yobs.

I had a post from someone before I was so cruelly ostracized, saying she was following my idiocy and was whimsically thinking about our paths crossing and her featuring in my tales. Well that sounds great love, as long as you’re Gucci girl from Ruislip or similar, I’ll write about you. Perhaps we should have a first encounter on the escalator for me to get a better idea of your potential?

I was reminded at the weekend of a visit from my sister some years ago whilst I was living in Belgium. She was on husband number 4 and had 4 girls, 1 from each of them. “So we’re not talking then bitch well catch this, the smart bomb”. This one was Dave from Bolton with a clapped out Granada, which surprisingly made it to Rixensart where I lived just south of Bruxelles. They had never been abroad and it showed. Dave and I were stood outside the Palais de Justice, an impressive piece of architecture the splendor of which was clearly lost on our Dave. He turns to me and says “You can’t get pies ‘ere can ya?” He then became affectionately known as Pie man and the girls the petit-pois (little P’s). I might tell you some more, unless I hear from a solicitor. That was some years ago and I’m now a great uncle several times over. What sort of stock am I from?

I went into work at 6.45 this morning and the Met was full of smells and no signs of dolly’s although there were a lot of people who looked and acted the same. I’m not going to be drawn into dirty sheep type jokes on this occasion.

Walked out of the office circa 6pm (pissing down as was when I walked in, and out and in again at lunch) and instead of foreign student wall on L Regent St there was Granny umbrella wall, come on dears I’m drowning. Get on Bakerloo and have to stand, Spanish students abound, is it the notes and specky bins or have you really never seen a really pink person before? Oxford Circus and I pretend not to see girl going for same seat as me, Armada were getting on my nerves. National gallery bag, is that pretentious, maybe not but the old girl did have too much slap on. Bloody announcement that Met is not working, back to Piccadilly. Desire Lingerie bag, she needs it, pretentious bordering on deranged.

Londoners : Ask Admiral for cheaper car insurance. Ask him about H Lecter the bloke who drives all those big black things too. Norwich direct and Chruchill.com too, I’d rather pay the tube congestion charge than have my liver eaten with beans and Chianti. You have to get a bus from Hatton Cross to terminal 4, that will teach you for not buying British.

Hyde Park Corner, “Have you ever asked yourself why we are here, who put us here and was it an accident or by design” – bloody hell ranting vibes.

Gorgeous Afro-hair bird with serious attitude in next carriage, she sneers at big pink pig several times – I’m only ogling love. Zippos circus is at some place called Turham Green which is bang on the line between zones 2 and 3, which is not as important as the fact that it’s dangerously close to Acton Town. Caught a sly look at Afro without her retinal lasers zapping my gaze.

Woman with FT and leg oedema. University Chiefs attack visa plans is headline. My lecturers were barking, I used to write poems on the benches immortalizing them. Then when it was my turn none of the bloody ‘OK yah’s wrote anything about me. I used to go and check after lectures, no only my old faded verse about crusty hermits.

Joy Division fab – “See assassins all grouped in 4 lines dancing on the floor”, what’s that about Ian?

A fine looking girl gets on and starts playing provocatively with something in her hand. She’s tanned and lovely and must live in Ickenham, but no she gets off at South Harrow. Such a flirt and clearly has ideas above her station, well there’s not much beneath South Harrow.

Off at Swakeleys, Steak and Shiraz for tea. More Shiraz for afters and temor for breakfast.

CD 050706

010705

Good Day ‘Camp’ers.

An alternative look at today’s metro news and the people reading it. Friday fab!

Refreshed and rejuvenated this morning had a few days off to contemplate the meaning of it all. Sanity unfortunately returned as a consequence of sober worms post weekend, poor wrigglers with only a sterile solution to live on. Imagine if you put some cocktail cherries in a saline solution for a few days and then back into 50% brandy it would take a few days for it to permeate and restore the natural healthy balance. That steady state equilibrium prevails once more – Carpe Diem.

6 seat booth, CD and three 30 or 40 something women. P. Jane next to me, Moley diagonal, and slim attractive, no ring, writing on photocopied literature opposite (size 10 hands) – She can be my obsession today. Lit is ‘Attribution of Losses’, she sees me scribbling away and asks me if I would like a piece of paper – Nice smile. No thanks I reply thinking I much prefer size 8’s. We pull into West Harrow and loss assessor sneers at something on the platform, pond life probably.
That meaning of life thingy – it really is quite a difficult one? It’s also dangerous when I think too much, “it makes me think too much, it keeps my mind on my mind”. Starving worms of OH’s allows them plenty of time to consider the problem as opposed to usually sleeping it off.

James Brown in live 8 – Bad hair life! Those Edinburgh’ers are not racist like us lot. Omi IPOD dares to invade my territory, sweet soul music on t-shirt – Idiot. Harrow on the hill and the driver as usual sails past all desirable additions to booth harem. Do they not do emergency stop training for train driving? Gorgeous oriental girl gets on and completes the six, small everything. “Drinking fountains are shorter than they used to be”. Small and thin fingers, double effect - size and girth. That’s my area full and I’m happy apart from the sole wanker. Risk assessor is writing notes in margin, much neater than me, but isn’t red so confrontational?

Change of seasons – Dream Theater moves onto covers. “Sweet Soul” FFS – bad hair music sonny! Look, “You've got to understand, we must remain Perfect Strangers”.

You know in the morning when it’s like not worth living because you were up ‘til 3am drinking and 4am looking for more, you have to go to the pub at lunch. The other day I rummaged around and found 8 quid (3 Directors) in change; foreign bar staff know me well. Aren’t they fab, they work for less pay and always smile even though they can’t understand mad Englishman.

Wembley Park and I notice there’s a sort of geographically induced apartheid developing. All the seats are taken by White guys and all the Black guys have to stand. Is that racist, everything else is it seems these days, BB? Jesus! Black carriage (you know the one by the doors) is joined by big fat slap with 4 tits – she’s happy eyeing up where her next baby is coming from.

Biggest African aid donors are African. Some guy sends a few bob back to his family and that’s it? Come on metro that’s not f’ing donating!

Onto Bakerloo and quite a few get off, Momma with attitude muscles way to front and stops as soon as she gets on, glares at everyone else for pushing past. CD announces in headline fashion, “Big fat girl shows attitude” probably a little too loud as MP3 is cranked up, and is glared at by insipid looking skinny hippie girl until Oxford St. She probably had a complex about her arse and thought I meant her.

Chooses bland asexual girl for escalator experiment. Closes eyes and thinks of England football team managers’ girlfriend.

CD 010705

270605

Good morning ‘Camp’ers.

Another alternative look at the metro news and the tube inhabitants from today.

Rejuvenating, psycho shower experience after dreadful nights sleep. Banshee cat howl woke me at 2am signalling she had been successful in hunt for small rodent and would I like to see how clever she was? I didn’t fancy a mouse hunt in the middle of the night so neglectfully showed no interest, once again. After a while she gives up and de-brains it on the landing. There remains only silver pea sized thing on each occasion. I assume it’s a silver sack containing micro-worms and that she’s either eaten the remainder or I have 100’s of zombie mice under the floorboards.

No MP3 today as it has proved impossible to get player and charged AAA in same location.

Whiteley dies, Carol devastated. She’s a Mathematician too, I wonder if she thinks like me. We would either have spoddy kids or ones that would be more of a danger to society. Non-kinky famous boot action at Glastonbury. Bit of an AA nip in the air as Kate Moss also shows off her skeletal legs in size 5 to 6 wellies. Joss Stone looks in good shape but hands provocatively covered, sometimes it’s best to leave things to the imagination. Africa featuring heavily in the news pages 2-5, big place I suppose.

Scientists bring Dead back to life. They have drained dogs bodies of blood and filled with saline, refilled with blood and then successfully sparked up. My worms are on placebo this morning and don’t appear to be functioning well at all, have tried banging head against wall to wake them up but it hurt. Perhaps I should save all the shiny worm bags in a solution of Saxo in case the basement zombie mouse army can be saved.

Sick nurses cost the NHS £470m a year. They have more sick days than the rest, 16.8 days per year. The last one must have been a Friday as everyone goes home early. Woman gets on at Wembley, she should have taken the day off with a face like that.

I notice a smiley girl with a Tesco bag, perhaps she has been reading herein and knows what I’m up to. Perhaps she wants to be in the Diary and knew if I saw a similar ‘statement’ bag she would be immortalised. I look around and there’s a Sainsbury’s and oh no an Iceland. I’m off at Baker St and I see a bloke with a Wickes, hey don’t start a dangerous precedent mate. Onto Bakerloo and there’s a woman with a Lilliwhites, she could be useful as homing worms are presumably not functioning well today either. I don’t want to lose my way and be wandering around SW1 lost for the rest of the morning.

Off she gets and I follow her, first escalator and I see short skirt, tanned legs and kinky boots at the top. I’m torn between discarding Guide Lilli and express lane-ing it. She’s fast lane-ing anyway and the desire not to go on a Grand Prix of Eros sways it. That and not being 100% sure that my coronary arteries will be able to feed my enlarged left ventricle with sufficient saline polluted red stuff.

Snubbed foreign ‘Ms London’ oriental boy, I prefer to receive my free papers from Latinos.

CD 270605

230605

Good morning ‘Camp’ers.

Another alternative look at the metro news from today and the tube inhabitants.

Had an experience in the shower this morning. You know Tesco etc do loads of smelly, coloured shower gels; well one has appeared in my shower. Bright red and called rejuvenate. Well I’m splashing it everywhere, having fun and I noticed the white tiled walls of the shower were dripping with red, I redirected the shower spray away from the apparent carnage, emptied the bottle and had me a psycho moment.

Britain was moonstruck last night – the moon appeared twice the size of usual due to trick of eye. Doesn’t it make you want to take all your clothes off and dance around Eros with a dozen naked foreign Dilly boys? Pollution alerts by mobile phone, pollution level warnings for asthma/heart sufferers via your mobile. Can I have warnings of my body being polluted with testosterone, or maybe for other tube travellers that my levels are out of control, again?

Gucci ‘bangle watch’ girl gets on at Ruislip, tanned legs, and striped shorts suggesting strapping thighs. Takes shades off and finishes make-up, preferred her with shades on which she again dons and begins to read. Lovely hands but she’s got squared off French manicured nails, pointy nails look better don’t you think boys and there’s more of a hint of potential damage. In her area opposite, an Oriental stick insect and well-groomed Indian woman are joined by dull woman with plethora of finger metal – someone loves her lots. I think a fat ugly bloke. I have plain ginger woman with freckly big legs.

Call centre staff sell bank details. PIN numbers etc are being sold from thousands of accounts managed through Indian call centres. I wondered what the Bombay tandoori was doing on my bank statement. Faria showing 'em off again, “you want some dirty deeds”, yeaaggghh. Breakthrough in brain research – takes only one human brain cell to recognise people. I’d like about 30 of Gucci girls cells, the ones identifying all her quality friends in Ruislip. Keep me busy for a few nights.

Fat bloke sits next to me and is eclipsing view of opposite seating area, which now has small sexy looking Indian girl and skinny white girl completing the six. He’s playing with his palm top, I bet that’s not all he has to play with. Keep your eyes of G-girl mate.

“Blood sugar sucker fish in my dish, how many pieces do you wish?” she’s magic. “Glorious euphoria is my must, Erotic shock is a function of lust”. “Blood sugar baby, she has it ..”. Ooooooh that was nice, *repeat track*. “Blood sugar bad girl, she’s magic”. [Blood, sugar, sex magic – Chilli Peppers]. Pregnant woman better not require seat just yet.

Teacher who seduced boy escapes jail. Now 19 he says ‘I was young and naïve and thought I was living every schoolboys fantasy but it turned into a living hell for me’. YEAH RIGHT.

Lose Gucci girl in the throng at Baker Street. Couldn’t get the contents of her striped shorts out of my head so no elevator play today. Off at the Dilly, amused by Tiamat (whatever that hurts) lyrics down Regent Street - what are those guys on?

CD 230605

220605

Good morning ‘Camp’ers.

A superficial look at the metro news stories together with odd behavioural observations.

Soya and Beer harm fertility. Women warned that they can harm the chances of having a baby. So can the contraceptive pill girls, so start putting the f'ing thing in your mouths and not in your ear. Faria, smashing dress – good idea to turn up at a tribunal with your tits hanging out Darling claiming to be sexually harassed. I don’t blame him, mitigating circumstances. Glastonbury Fab. British greenhouse gas emissions rise. Shut the door and keep them in the greenhouse.

Men, have more sex if you want super-sperm. What if you can’t get it but still want to be a super-spermer? Got to balance out the benefits against the vision disturbances. Women who become pregnant using donated eggs have increased (x3) risk of hypertension vs conventional IVF. 90% of hypertension is idiopathic which means the bloody idiotpaths don’t know what causes it. What is it about these demonic donated eggs that have such a profound effect on the renin-angiotensin system? Is this research worth asking French farmers to contribute towards?

Met spookily quiet this morning on the behaviour front, perhaps I’ve become obsessed with cardiovascular action?

Football match between Kurds and Asians in Newcastle ended in a brawl; afterwards friends of Asian players turned up and beat the Kurds with sticks. Come on guys we use baseball bats in this country, uptnorth.

Bakerloo southbound platform, just missed a train so time to go see Miss ‘R&B Massive’ again. She looked cleaner today after my efforts yesterday and I had time to read the rest of the poster. Double album with people I’d never heard of and presumably would not like to be associated with. I’d have to get someone to go into the shop and buy it for me, they could have the CD’s but I’d keep the cover to cat groom at my leisure.

City Lawyer quits after ketchupgate. The one who sent the e-mail requesting 4 quid for cleaning. A bit over the top asking for money, he should have handled it at the time, like with any girl causing a mess on/in your trousers, now clean it up bitch.

Grapefruit pulls men. The scent of a grapefruit takes six years off a woman. A sensory expert smeared middle-aged women with bananas, broccoli, spearmint and lavender but found grapefruit the best. This sounds like research the farmers would be willing to give up a few billion for.

Curvy girl is my escalator partner today. I’d taken a step back and some guy tries to muscle in on the action. No way dude, I take a step forward again. Perhaps it’s best as I had been a little forward in going south so early in affairs.

CD 220605

210605

Good Morning ‘Camp’ers

Another alternative look at the news and tube life. Now that summer has arrived isn’t people watching more fun?

Couldn’t concentrate on primary role of news review today, short girl with party frock got on early. Very small hands and mouth (oooh!) and a fine chest, which she was proudly displaying. Bit of a role on tum but she didn’t mind showing it, strapping tanned legs and stilettos, off at Finchley Road. My mind’s gonna create some 'dirt cheap dirty deeds'. Thinks of image on front of Around the Fur - Deftones as good start.

Rail firms calling for congestion charge on trains – too late guys it's full. £25K revenge – silly bitch sold her radio DJs husbands Lotus because of his antics with a model he interviewed. He was just a bit flirty and honest about what male homosapien thinks about. Oh shit as soon as mine reads this that’s the end of my big red beast.

Ban on smoking to include bus stops – who cares only riff-raff uses buses. A mother of three had her speeding case thrown out of court because they couldn’t spell her ‘mental’ sounding name right on the ticket. “Mr Akamp was doing 130 in his turbo charged sports car M’Luud”. M’Luud - He might be aka male prostitute but it’s Camp, case dismissed.

I found another computer generated ‘Massive R& B girl’ at the southbound Baker St platform. It’s been so long since I’d seen my love that I couldn’t help myself before I knew it I was licking the poster all over and would have missed my connection had it not been for the guard shouting “Hey you stop it, it’s filthy”. How can you call such a beautiful thing filthy? The Finchley worker now she's filthy.

Scan can tell when she’s faking it. Scientists have found a way to tell real/fake orgasms apart. Two pictures of brain, blue areas=real and red areas=fake. What about bed pissed wet through=real, err that's it really.

Off at the Dilly, getting a bit of a habit, positions oneself behind tight jeans, floral top and took a bit of a risk as didn’t see face. Started at coccyx level and by the end of the second escalator was up to C2. Imaginary escalator foreplay, fab.

Nice smile for the foreign ‘Girl about town’ boy. I’ve gotta get by personality ‘disturbances/realignments’ sorted out. As walking down L Regent St I’m on my second listening of A Change of Seasons (Dream Theater), Carpe Diem – Seize the day! Seize the secretary more like it.

CD 210605

200605

Here’s Johnny!

An alternative look at the metro news and the tube clientele.

F1asco. F1 in crisis as 9 teams pull out of US GP. It’s f’ing dangerous I would. What is an ASCO, sounds like bad behaviour anti-social action.

Gays scared to come out to GP’s. BMA suggests ways to make us feel comfy about coming out. “Mr Camp for Dr Raj, consulting room 1”, “Good morning isn’t it Mr Campy, oooh shut that door.” “Backs to the wall boys, look at the muck in ‘ere – isn’t it?”

5 steps for criminals - get in, in lounge, in bedroom, TV, get out. Odd order don’t you think? “In the early hours of Friday morning a big bloke in drag was apprehended in the bedroom of a house in Uxbridge. His accomplice was caught in possession of the family TV in a van parked outside. Upon questioning, he said ‘I told the big silly tart it was not an important step in nicking TV’s, but he was obsessed with following the plan he had hatched from a poster he saw at Baker Street’. The mastermind, Mr Camp also of Uxbridge was remanded in custody where he was being treated for size 11 stiletto induced blisters.

I watched the lead up to Wimbledon and couldn’t help thinking about how feminine Sharapova was and how butch Serena was. Imagine a night with Serena though, big hands, strong forearms, hoover lips, lay back close your eyes and think of Maria - all over her in no time.

CD 200605

180605

Happy Fathers Day ‘Camp’ers.

Aren’t MP3’s fab but there’s no way you can get as many tracks on as they claim, unless of course it’s the Ramones “It’s good to be back in England and it’s good to see y’all again, take it to them, 1234, hey ho let’s go…”.

Friday I got banned from Ch4 forums for making a joke about live 8. Hey Sir Bob nor I ate the pies. Just means for the latest on drunken worms and small hand thingies the lazy shits that inhabit Ch4 fetish forums will have to hang out here. Someone said register again, but infamy is the real reason I got IP address blacklisted. Trog Troll extraordinaire is a lonely path to walk.

I’ve changed my view on brain contents regeneration, at my time of life with a serious history of abuse it’s my only hope. And all those sore vital organs are enough to drive you to jog to church, apart from the lungs being sore too. I was married for many years, I knew it was time to get out when God began running around the veins of her rather large hands, that and having to explain my need to visit the Dilly so often.

No signs of the dyke alter-ego since Friday, Rosie it seems – primary ‘personality disturbance’ of the Aaron Stampler kind. “ 42, 39, 56 you can say she’s got it all”. She’s all I have “We’re a happy Family, …., Daddy likes men”. No Fathers day cards, 1 birthday card few months ago, boy have I pissed everyone off.

Yesterday, I did my usual Saturday thing of running around a cricket field whilst topping up my second degree burns. “All the girls gonna laugh at me, I’m a teenage lobotomy”.

Lyrics of other ‘It’s Alive – Ramones’ songs that influenced my immature wrigglers: “Pt boat for Havana, you can make a livin’ by picking the banana”, “You gotta keep repeatin’ for the hopin’ cretin”, “First rule is the love of Germany, 2-be nice to mommy, 3-don’t to talk to commies, 4th rule is eat cold salamis”, “Well listen, I don’t Care”, “We’re all making fortunes selling Daddy’s dope” - “We’d like to thank you all for coming, Goodnight”. I never had a chance did I, saw them at Rock city Nottingham, the greatest ever live gig. Also DeMontfort hall the night after the Clash, superb.

CD 180605

160605

Good Morning ‘Kamp’ers,

More alternative angles on the metro news and tube inhabitants.

Africa given a voice at last. Their own concert in Cornwall, now shut the feck up!

Not even past the first scribble and the rather confident looking thirty something opposite is looking at me. White flowy skirt, flip flops and legs that have seen the solarium but not the gym. First sneer has come and gone and before I’ve regained my composure she looks me up and down again, this time holding her gaze at my metro notes. I wonder what she’s thinking? “What is that specky guy doing making notes on the edge of the metro, does he not realise that black is definitely not this years black”. “He’s got lovely big hands though and licks his lips provocatively”.

I think she’s my feminine side and I question whether she is real or that my desire for such a ‘personality disturbed’ partner has created an illusion on the Piccadilly line at Hillingdon(Swakeleys). I always though I had a beautiful mind and now I have the hallucinations too. I decide to call her Dyke Harmony, in keeping with the peace initiative theme. “Sainsbury’s bag for god sake, a big man like that should have Hackett or something, loser! He needs taking in hand”. I’m always open to offers dear.

Arsenal striker Robin van Persie is kept in custody over rape allegation. That’s a nice name, when I get banned from this forum (today if this continues) I’m gonna use that, Camp Persie – yeah has a good feel. Minister fingered by new drug test. Tory politician must have had a joint before he demo’d new drug test because he tested positive for cannabis. I’d like to think they’d find some really interesting stuff all over Harmony. Reminds me of some great Magazine lyrics from Cut out shapes.

We met at a psychiatric unit
she was in for having habits no one else would try
She didn't know what she was in control of
she had all the advantages of magic no one could deny.

Doesn’t sound quite the same with ‘we met at a Tube station in Middlesex’.

Blair arms himself for battle with EU leaders. He’s armed himself with cutting insults taken from a famous Monty Python sketch. Finishing off with his main weapon ‘Big Fat Belgian Bastards’. Signed first edition of Mein Kampf bought by anonymous British buyer for £23,800. Absolute snip at 24 grand after I left a small tip, look out for my upcoming review of this book focusing on the ‘bit I’ve read so far’ detailing the authors informative years in Vienna.

New fathers deserve a month off after childbirth. Why, why not after conception that was harder work. Telegram from the Queen would be good, “Good lad, that’s ones boy!!!”. Having so much fun this morning I’ve just realised my MP3 has reached the end. Hammersmith needs Boy Sets Fire. Cannot print lyrics - http://www.lyricsdownload.com/boy-sets-fire-the-tyranny...ne-knows-lyrics.html . After all that exhausting effort with fat bitch, I don't anticipate any cards (viz thanks for the great impregnating shag) again this year.

Thought I’d describe my new friends in the carriage this morning. Only those opposite L to R. Attractive blond (former country girl) avec ring, Chinese dribbler, MP3 zombie boy (seek compensation boy, there's 10m going), Indian Dribbler, Cornwall festival goer, Chinese girl nice nails – two empty spaces. Filled at Barons Court by Floral Whale and mother with schoolgirl on knee. Better turn down Deftones (7 words) – eek! Lost Harmony somewhere, I’m sure she’ll be back.

Book watching: Terry Pratchet – The amazing Maurice and his educated rodents. Henning Mankell – The Dogs of Riga. Sounds like the latter might be worth a few bob in about 80 years. Pretentious Bag : Chocolaterie.

Once you’ve mastered the art of always being behind somebody desirable (young J Lopez in suit today) on the escalator, you can take it a stage further. Choose the level to stand at which you would desire your lips to be, belly button for me this morning, or more accurately Latino lumbar 4.

CD 160605

150605

Good morning loyal ‘Camp’sters.

More adventures on the tube and alternative views of the metro news.

Departing Station : Girl skips down the stairs past me, nice frock. Piccadilly line arrives first and she gets on, OK I’ll go and have a closer look. She flirtatiously lets me see that she has no ring on and then gets off at the very next stop, teasing bitch.

Front page metro: Sex attacker with ‘no victim’, he’s caught on CCTV. I have sex every night and there’s no victim, I just close my eyes and think about geisha hands, lots of them. Idiot went wrong using CCTV to record it; a little camcorder would be more private and the results easily accessible for future viewing. I just don’t get solo voyeurism.

Boy sleeping listening to his MP3. He wouldn’t be doing that if he were listening to mine at the moment. “Lying to subject, Dying to collect, 5, 5, 5, 5, I'm coming apart” – Ultraspank (5).

Mass evictions in Zimbabwe. Loads of shacks cleared away. They are so untidy aren’t they? Stolen Dalek is ex-Tor-minated. It was lost and now it is found. I have a Gay Dalek friend with attention deficit disorder. I can slag the alien tart off here because he won’t get passed ‘Girl skips … nice frock’. He won’t get passed ‘Girl’.

As I was teased onto the Piccadilly I took the opportunity to get off at Rayners Lane to see why it was so popular. One girl was wearing white trousers, it’s pissing down love. As there was a bit of a nip in the air also I thought I’d sit close to her to check out if she also inappropriately had no bra on.

Better Car Safety at our Fingertips. A finger scan can work out your bone density and adjust seatbelt and airbags so they don’t hurt you. What happens if you’re a bit sloppy in the morning and you get a bit of SR with calcium on your fingertips? ‘Man projected out of back of car at 100mph after his airbag falsely detected that his bone density was similar to kryptonite’.

Oh no, no ‘Massive R&B girl’ poster. She’s bound to be lurking seductively on e-bay. Quiet on the escalators today, have I ‘g g g lost time’ again, is it Sunday? Lashing down still, I hope my MP3 is waterproof to at least 20m.

CD 150605

140605

Good morning ‘Camp’sters.

More from the tube, some fun ‘with’ certain minorities and some risqué interpretations of life.

Jackson - Santa Maria : Not Guilty. Camp – Uxbridge : Don’t you just love Jesus Juice? 5 pages, fast forward to page 6.

Best ‘molested young girl’. You may think this is a competition to see which molested girl was the best looking or which girl received the best molestation. But no it’s bloody George. The missus of King Fahd is divorcing him claiming 32bn, she lives in Knightsbridge and might own it soon. She complains about his infidelity with the two ‘bitches’ that are his other wives, he ‘can’t get it up anymore’, ‘keeps her short’ and he ‘drinks like a fish’ becoming aggressive when he’s had a few (allegedly, well OK made it up then).

Old Bag gets on Met at Ickenham and has the audacity to ask me to turn my music down. I smile whilst observing she hasn’t made much of an effort this morning and if she goes on this way she won’t have too many more bad makeup days. What really hurt was it was Down ‘Stone the Crow’, quite appropriate really. Stone the witch! Woman with ethnic looking top, Asian I think, gets on at Ruislip and immediately takes out what is clearly a holy book. I immediately make classic mistake of thinking it’s the Koran and quickly look around for suspicious baggage’s nearby. She opens book and crosses herself, I think we’re OK with that, had it been 666 she marked on her chest I’d have worried.

Gosh don’t loads of people live at Rayners lane, it must go on forever, someone must have an address like 12654 Rayners lane, Southampton. Although they wouldn’t catch the Met line here unless they drove there and parked up. They were all dull and loads more get on at West Harrow. I suddenly become aware that I was the only blond person in the by now packed carriage. I see two people chatting, ‘I haven’t seen a Blondie around here for some time, they must have changed their minds and come back from the country’.

Eating lettuce and wearing Dark Blue is taboo amongst a Kurdish religious group called the Yazidis. They worship Angels and don’t believe the ‘Melek Taus’ (Lucifer angel) is an enemy of God. As I already have 3 fatwa’s on me today I’ll resist the temptation to reword that section, and replace Yazidis with Yardies.

I hope the old bag is enjoying ‘train noise’ rather than what she could have been listening to – The tschh tschh tschh associated with Warrior Souls ‘The Losers’, how very appropriate again, particularly as she got off at Finchley Road (not so superior now are we?). Spots Karren Millen pretentious bag (big orange spot) – change at Baker Street, Bakerloo to Oxford Circus and short stroll down Regent Street if you want one too. An inverted snobbery Jessops bag was opposite Karen. I see another shiny bag across the way, obscured by pretty Indian girl with great lips, and small brown hands – ooooh. Her bottom’s in the way and whilst initially trying to peer around to see what I ultimately find is a REISS pretentious bag, I give up and observe eclipsing backside in more detail.

I Change at Baker St, Hello computer generated ‘Massive R&B’ girl, I think I love you. Don’t bother with first sardine-aloo, on next I get a seat opposite some plain round girl. She looks sternly at me, and down at my notes on the metro. I write in much larger than usual letters ‘SAT OPPOSITE PLAIN ROUND GIRL’. Oh no Zombie, skip track, Rammstein much better. Alle warten auf das Licht, Fürchtet euch fürchtet euch nicht, I hope they can hear this mental shit and won't dare mess with me. Plain round girl looks over again, who does she think she is with no ring? After each subsequent look at me, I make a scribble on my paper so she thinks I’m writing about her.

Off at Piccadilly, observe the fast laners but nothing is sufficiently better than small bottom I have in front. Get my 'Girl about town' from lush foreign boy.

MG nearly gets me on Carlton Street, no signs of Rover inertia today.

CD 140603

130605

Spiderman strikes again – scales 62 storeys Hong Kong building. "Robert is renowned for climbing steep buildings without ropes or any other equipment." I'd like to know which buildings are not steep. L Tower of P is still pretty steep from the leant over side. Rover ruined by Inertia. Is that not just on cold mornings?

See that Gay horse story hit the national press. Homophobia is not a crime yet is it, so why is the fear of Gay horses? What are they likely to do, Mince up horse guards’ parade? Actually that would be a bit scary, we better develop a name for when it is an offence. Ecuuomophobia.

Pink Floyd to play Live 8. If you texted your chances of seeing them are one in 28. The band is to be newly fronted by lead singer Selassie Gilmour, a tone deaf Jamaican rasta. “It’s not about de music maaan, pass me me chalice”.

CD 130605

120605

Good Afternoon People.

Sundays are a bit dull aren’t they? Apart from the things you’ve got to do like a bit of hunting in the soil for wrigglers what else is there? No vodka left so had to use gin with the tabasco - "a bloody depressing Mary", I feel another 'personality disturbance' ahead tomorrow.

Highlight of the morning was the Jehovah’s witnesses delivering the ‘New world translation of the holy scriptures’, the one I ordered last week. Nice guys but wouldn’t come in for a coffee. My new friends suggest I start with the word according to John. It’s right at the back so they must think I’m advanced material. They said they would come back in a few months, I said next week would be fine. “In the beginning …”, piece of piss.

I spoke with the Mum of the 21st birthday boy, she was telling me of her conversation with the stripagram company. Wait a minute, Mums – stripagram – Mums – errr strip – Mum – agram – errr - errr, no cannot comprehend that. I wish she had been my mates Mum when I was about 21, Here’s to you Mrs ‘birthday boys Mum’.

“Would you like topless”, Mum would have to think about that. “The girl has only got little ones”, M : ahh OK then. I’m gonna have to ring me one of these places, “… only little ones” : CD – Look love unless it’s at least 3 little ones there’s no way I’m gonna deprive my boy. Mum : No oil, no marsh mellows, no whips – I ask you what is she gonna do then surprise us all with a third and hopefully fourth one? I love little ones, I certainly don’t want mine to get any bigger – well maybe just one of them would be nice.

“All things came into existence through him”, who John? I need to get me a serious version of this thing, clarity is not too much to ask is it? Do the witnesses do mid-week deliveries?

CD 120605

110605

Hey late night chat, that was fun. Now "WAKE UP, ... WAKE UP, How long, not long, Cause what you reap, Is what you sow!". (The Matrix)

Morning all.

Had a great Party Friday night, one thing about having 21st Birthday parties is all the friends are like 21ish and all the skirts are like 21cm. Mingled with 40-50 year old letches, hilarious hair day guys.

Someone said yesterday that they were enjoying the posts but were ‘scared of what’s inside my head’. Its drunken worms. Parties don’t help as once completely dead they don’t regenerate, you have to dig in the garden and try and force some more up through your nose. Little wiggly ones are best and if you prepare them in an in vitro mixture of 50% vodka and 50% Tabasco that will prepare them for the in vivo brain conditions ahead. All that wriggling about might stimulate some re-growth in the old sclerotic ones too.

You know during the summer when you see dried up worms on the path and you thought they were caught in the sun? Well that’s not so, it’s the bodies rejuvenation process clearing out hopelessly sclerotic worms through a duct in the ear. Look up the street and you’ll see the piss-head responsible. (Ref http://www.biodiversity.uno.edu/~worms/annelid.html#ANNLIST)

I woke up again this afternoon, fell down stairs again and cleared the post-party sun dried annelids from the house. The cat’s never sure what’s going on, pushes them around with her paw a bit and then swears she’ll give up the mental music.

Weekend, fab!

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Good morning All.

Bit of a change this morning, thought I’d do an experiment to see how mental music on the tube affected the outlook of a not so young man with multiple ‘personality disturbances’, particularly his ability to do menial tasks that some other loser should be doing. Skipped over The Deftones collection, Ultraspank and Body Count straight to Rage. Loaded up MP3 and cranked the volume. Metroplolitan to Baker Street, bloody signals at some place called Farringdon ? Mayhem at Baker Street, mayhem in CD’s head.

Look out for the metro news on Monday. **** Office Worker Kills 5 after listening to mental music****. Upon arrival at his workplace in SW1, an office worker David Camp 45 of Uxbridge, Middlesex went into a rage when quizzed about his attitude. An altercation subsequently developed and Mr Camp was heard to say ‘Fnck you I won’t do what you tell me’ repeatedly before slaying his Boss. He went into a further rage when the IT director intervened screaming ‘Burn burn yes you’re gonna burn’.

He then turned his attention to company secretary Miss Littlehand taking her hostage, ‘They say jump you say how high, if we don’t take action now we’ll settle for nothing later’. He then shot a security guard, ‘yeah what about that fnckre, why stand on a silent platform, fight the war, fnch the norm’. A witness called the police ‘I think I heard, I think I heard 5 shots’.

When police arrived Mr Camp was surrounded by 5 bodies screaming, ‘Wake up’ and holding Miss Littlehands hands. Colleagues were lost for words, he was such a nice boy.

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(You have to have the album)

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Good morning ‘Camp’ers.

More alternative looks at the tube population characteristics and the fab news as provided by the metro. Some jokes ‘with’ certain minorities and some risqué alternative interpretations of life. I’m perky this morning, I think it’s the ‘Massive R&B’ poster girl that has done it. She could definitely cure one of my ‘PD’s.

They didn’t find the Mongolian death worm http://www.cfz.org.uk. Looks like a wiggly cartso, there’s plenty of those worm thingies around Old Compton Street I can tell you. A’levels will be history in ten years (Q & C Authority), don’t bother getting rid of them just rename them O’levels.

Row over racist heart attack drug, heart failure is x2 in Blacks vs Whites. What isn’t ‘racist’ these days? ‘I demand compo, that doctor saving my black ass gave me a racist chemical entity’.

I’ve been travelling into London too long, same woman sat opposite me today. Drab clothes, no ring, saggy willets. She might just be my stalker or she just likes the tschh, tschh, tschh coming from my MP3. Lot of sniffing action this morning me included, unfortunately it does not protect against Garlic Breath getting on at Rayners Lane. Indian omi, he’ll never need a racist drug. Drab stalkers paper touches mine, I’m either in or she wants me to skip track.

Culkin guilty of possessing drugs, 1 year suspended sentence. Start them on the Jesus juice early and look where it leads. Teri Desperate is heading for the UK Gay clubs, ‘we love her, she loves us’. I don’t think she would if she knew what I do during D Wives.

4 Black boys get MBE’s for running 100m’s. Good looking boys but there are some lush white boys too. Is it fair, can we have a token white boy – would spoil the pictures though? Based on my experience of seeing plenty of quick moving white boys avoiding black cabs, I think the CRE should look into purchasing a black cab for the training ground.

Brian Taylor, a habitual petrol sniffer broke an order that banned him from every ASDA forecourt in Britain. In Aboriginal towns it’s apparently a big problem. How long before we hear the didgeridoo around petrol forecourts? Page 11 pic of Dominatrix, I barely looked at her lips or hands, nice bits in between boys! All you Mathews and Claires, go by some premium bonds. Lucky bastards.

A bloke found a way of changing the recorded message on a customer service help line. It involved ‘Just f*** off and leave us alone, get a life’. Quite funny but a missed opportunity what about ‘Bi-sexual man seeks molestation of any kind, call 0207 XXXXXX’. Warning on female hormones in rivers. I have a steam at the bottom of my garden that I dance naked by the moon light in. Explains a lot. Finaly, new words like Chavish and Chavtastic have been added to Collins. What was wrong with Fantabulosa?

Not much people observation today so I went up and down the Baker Street escalators a few times. Good to see thingies from all angles don’t you think?

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Good morning ‘Camp’ers. More alternative looks at the tube population characteristics and the fab news as provided by the metro. Once again I will have a little joke ‘with’ certain minorities and some risqué alternative interpretations of life. I'm in a bit late this morning, trolling the news forum late last night so might actually be banned, but it’s OK I have multiple ‘personality disturbances’.

In the interest of staying on topic (well actually token gesture) I have observed this ‘playing it straight’ program and I have to say the girl was gorgeous and had great lips. I would have liked more close ups of her right hand though.

Pope lashes out at Gay marriage. WTF does he know and he has no excuse for being so ugly, and wearing a silly hat, and being German? Fashion sense is naff.

Got the Piccadilly line this morning instead of Met. Fashion clearly isn’t important around Ealing and Harrow. Did notice a lot of flip flop action, which is nice especially with dolly feet, and no 'stop hammer time'. Cherie Critics are ‘sexist’. Apparently Denis T had a lot of outside interests and they were never criticised. Nice lips and great facial expressions to boot, and she is the PM’s wife, you would just have to wouldn’t you? Imagine those faces boys!

South Harrow no serious fashion to report. Dr Scholls and a bad hair day. Sudbury Town, flip flops with spangly bits.

Mrs Robinson. Anne Bancroft has died. I’m going to set up a poll to see which one you wacked off to, Dustin, Anne or both. Just for the boys, I don’t like to think about what the girls do. Singer Myleene Klass launches http://www.stoptextbully.com wearing smashing blouse.

Fat bird gets on tube, looks at me strangely. I wonder is she thinking he’s a big boy, with the two of us at it I’d need a new bed soon - I bet he’s thinking that too, OR what’s that weirdo making notes on the Metro for must be a pervert. Little does she know it's both. Train is now full and I’m a double minority. The Piccadilly is so multi-cult. Two guys sleeping, how is it that they are not dribbling. Isn’t it embarrassing when you get that wet patch in your trousers? Black guy with MP3, he’s thinking I hate this African music but why can’t we have it at Live8. Have they banned hoodies on the tube?

LL cool J is gutted that he didn’t get a part in Will and Grace. He says he’s big in the Gay world, not as lush as Sol Campbell I hear you say. An American who changed her name from Margaret to Lionel at the age of 15 has won a prize for fiction, that’s a ‘personality disturbance’.

Drunken student is locked up for calling a horse Gay. It might have been.

Date Expectations section. 5 things Girls Expect of Boys (according to Metro) – No vest, tasteful socks, tasteful jewellery, no purse, pay for the greedy bitch – don’t be tight.

10 things Boys Expect of Girls (David) – Smashing vest, pouting lips, small hands, stockings, no draws, tells you she’s no draws, let’s you play with her small hands, has twin sister with small hands and no draws, has latino looks and an oriental identical twin sister.

1 thing a Boy expects from a Boy – A shag.

Now Sports : Spotting those pretentious bags from expensive stores. Ultimate spot is a La Senza bag. I saw two this morning ‘NADINE’ and ‘Schwarstkopf’ or something. She must have thought I was mad as I had to get down on my knees to have a look as the writing was too small and I didn’t want to appear specky this morning.

Guessing what’s on peoples MP3’s. I thought this a waste of time this morning, it could not have been as good as the “Last Decade Dead Century” that was on mine.

Arrival Piccadilly. Tests out best reflected smile in preparation for Foreign ‘Ms London’ Boy. Minces up stairs to find him AWOL, not a good start to the day.

Have fun (big kisses)

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Good morning ‘Camp’ers.

Thought I’d bring you an alternative look at the tube population characteristics and the fab news as provided in the metro. Will have a little joke ‘with’ certain minorities and some risqué alternative interpretations of behaviour and attire.

First off a little news story that had me chuckling this morning. ‘Driver banned for being Gay’, you think it would be for speaking loudly on the mobile in a camp voice and repeatedly ‘Marrrvvvelllloouuus’ ing. But no, a Sicilian omi-palone chucked out of the army (spoil sports) was being checked out for his suitability to drive (just take the f’ing mobile off him). Judge says it’s OK but described homosexuality as a ‘personality disturbance’, is that all, I’ve had loads of them and I wouldn’t have a friend without at least 3?

I was people watching on the tube on the way to work. The idea was to look for smashing blouses and kinky boots for the boys, but I found myself concentrating more on hands and lips. I think I was having a ‘personality realignment’, aren’t those little hands and pouting lips fab. Just think what they could do boys.

Only 14 charges for Saddam, I thought he’d done loads of people in not just 14!

Keeping the news on the driving theme. Judge says ‘raise driving age to 24’, after banning an 18 year old lad from driving for 5 years. ‘At 24 you may just be suitable to sit behind the wheel of a car’. Does that mean that it should be another 5 years until he could start it up?

We recently had the policeman ‘testing’ his car at 159 mph getting off last week (it wasn’t over me), today we see PC Yates getting a two-month ban for 95 mph. The idiot told the truth, he was in a hurry and ‘his partner wanted a good nights sleep’. ‘His Gay partner had a terrific headache after suffering homophobic taunts about cottage action from his female DI - a dominatrix type character’ would have been better. He’d have got a commendation and a faster car, only 95 ffs. I could camp on 3 mobiles at 95.

I did try and look at shoes for the girls, but my heart wasn’t in it. They just wouldn’t look good at size 11. I picked up 'Ms London' at the Dilly and smiled at the foreign boy.

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