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