Londonium is the element of surprise.
I won't lie to you, baby. I've been hiding out. It was one of those dusky times when my psyche and I were fighting because I want to strut and sing and it just wants to lie around sulking and only getting up to check its eyeliner in the reflection of the black, black pool spilling from its sheer angst. It's utterly utterly annoying of it and it pulls this sort of thing fairly often, usually at the most inopportune moments like the morning after a wonderful night when you really should be making nicey with the nice smelling chap on your spare pillow.
Psyche, can we talk about this? Shall I write you a note inside of an expensive hand made greeting card? Will you please stop pulling the rug out from under my Very Happy Actually Thanks? Ugh. Twat.
I got an emphatic phone call from Georgie who reminded me to buy a bottle of some sort of water pill for the flight over, since I won't be able to pack my usual arsenal of hydration aids (some call them "bottles of water" but I was on a roll there, so nyeh) due to the, well, you know. I overheard someone in the cafe the same day, talking bollocks about not being able to pack hair gel and deodorant and how PISSED OFF they were about this (as opposed to potential bombings) and thank goodness they could stay with friends who HAVE these things. I leapt on their little table and cursed a blue streak about their failure to check something this fundamentally simple and go with rumour instead, as per fucking usual. Well, in my mind I did. What I actually did was mutter between gritted teeth (my own) and dig out my iPod lest something terrible happen that I couldn't take back. Which, by the way, hurts. Those fucking ear buds are designed for people with ear holes large enough to host strippers and they will NOT stay in mine. I didn't think I had freakishly small ear holes. I hear very well indeed. But the 'Pod people have made me question the width of my circles. Tell me I'm not the only one.
My arms hurt from my drunken attempt to show Carmine some Electric Boogaloo moves but I can safely say that I was amazing to behold. I'm just not sure if it was good amazing or bad amazing.
Could you darlings leave your screen names? I think I have two on my list and neither one of those bitches shows up when I do. That is all.
Psyche, can we talk about this? Shall I write you a note inside of an expensive hand made greeting card? Will you please stop pulling the rug out from under my Very Happy Actually Thanks? Ugh. Twat.
I got an emphatic phone call from Georgie who reminded me to buy a bottle of some sort of water pill for the flight over, since I won't be able to pack my usual arsenal of hydration aids (some call them "bottles of water" but I was on a roll there, so nyeh) due to the, well, you know. I overheard someone in the cafe the same day, talking bollocks about not being able to pack hair gel and deodorant and how PISSED OFF they were about this (as opposed to potential bombings) and thank goodness they could stay with friends who HAVE these things. I leapt on their little table and cursed a blue streak about their failure to check something this fundamentally simple and go with rumour instead, as per fucking usual. Well, in my mind I did. What I actually did was mutter between gritted teeth (my own) and dig out my iPod lest something terrible happen that I couldn't take back. Which, by the way, hurts. Those fucking ear buds are designed for people with ear holes large enough to host strippers and they will NOT stay in mine. I didn't think I had freakishly small ear holes. I hear very well indeed. But the 'Pod people have made me question the width of my circles. Tell me I'm not the only one.
My arms hurt from my drunken attempt to show Carmine some Electric Boogaloo moves but I can safely say that I was amazing to behold. I'm just not sure if it was good amazing or bad amazing.
Could you darlings leave your screen names? I think I have two on my list and neither one of those bitches shows up when I do. That is all.