THE BEGINNING OF SOCIETY’S END (AGAIN)

I woke this morning and life looked a bit like this…

Yes, after approximately five minutes of sunshine, okay, may like a couple of days, and temperature warm enough to make men think it was okaaaay to take their t-shirts off and walk around like flabby white pancakes with legs, the rain came back to make me…

HAPPY!!!!!

Yes, I like the rain! Fuck the sunshine, man! I love sleepy mornings when you look out and the sky is grey and the leaves are dripping and you just think, oooh duvet, and burrow down. Even walking around in it is cool. Well, as long as the wind ain’t howling… cos that just makes no sense and causes pain.

The Apprentice is coming to an end. Oh thank christ. I was stopped on the street a couple of weeks back by an eager looking BBC bod waving a microphone. ‘Do you watch the Apprentice?’ she asked, eager to get some inane ‘yeah, i fink that pollyanna spazlips shuld win’ comment. Oh my gawd, girl, you insult my very being by thinking I might be a person that actually watches this shite. Chris Moyles loves it. Enuff said.

Bye-bye Apprentice, hello BB

Just as the TV signal farts out the last stench of Alan Sugar’s giant beardy ego and his pompous bullshit soundbytes cease to clog the air, it could be safe to emerge from the bunker. Oh no, wait, it’s Big Brother. Joy! Double joy! What a great excuse to stop polishing a gun with my tongue. Surely it’s time this show bit the dust? After all, nothing entertaining happens, it’s not a social experiment (except for encouraging the act of sterilization and corporal punishment in schools) and whatsmore, it’s BORING. An argument over rice! *gasp* Someone says someone else is a slut. *horror!* Will some vacuous fuck decide to go the whole hog and declare the Holocaust never happened, then goosestep round the garden before picking out the least Aryan BB housemates for a good bedtime gassing? Why not? Didn’t Jade’s ignorant tripe get them the most publicity they’ve ever had? A smack on the wrist for the producers perhaps? Get this show off the air. Stop insulting our intelligence. If we want a social experiment, I’ll stand in the middle of my council estate dressed in my normal clothes and wait to get rocks thrown at me. Film that.

London aint a party town tonight

Last night was party time – it were rrrrrubbish though. Nasty tequila cocktails served by strange fashion type people that really seem to hate doing it and so did their utmost best to do very little work, oblivious to thirsty people on the other side.

Don’t stop to thank them either when you finally get your drink because some bitch dressed like she fell off the African savannah will get impatient and rudely snap, ‘Excuse me, can I get to the bar!’ in your face. It’s get your drink and run for your life, kids!

Such a mingling of idiot fashionista types (the old dude in white jeans thinking he was Yves Saint Laurant, posing to show off his crotch bulge was a source of much amusement) was too much even for our cynical selves so it was abandoned for the pub, where we sat in the fumes of a busy London road and supped beer and smoked our unfashionable cigarettes!

Hup hup it’s Friday. Happiness is a thing called weekend! What are you doing?

xx

Listening to:

Marilyn Monroe, Bryan Ferry, Billy Talent, 30STM

Staring at:

Uncomfortable glitter tights which are scratchy and icky!

Waiting for:

Pizza