But where are the spiders?
i love you David Bowie.
Last night i went to paddington in the dead of night and stared lustily at COFA (the college of fine arts).
I'm too scared. It'll be full of artsy beatniks in black turtleneck skivvies who'll chase me going "scoop scoop scooby doo wa wa pang yeeeeah maaaan" DAMN those scatting beatniks (they're the worst kind).
Ok so thats not really why i'm scared ( i quite like a bit of skivvy wearing and beret donning...SKA!)it's because i don't think i'm good enough to get in, or compete with extremo talented art types. BLAAAAAH then why can't i stop thinking about it??? If only i had some ostrich pancakes to soothe my woes. WHAT TO DOOOO?? should i complete a pooeier than pooey arts degree (i have three two week overdue essays because i had a stubborn change of values in which i refused to subject my destined- for- creativity brain to such tom foolery visa vee procrastination)or transfer to fine arts/design???
I need a hearthrob angel to tell me to drop out of beauty school or a stern reverend mother to tell me to "CLIIIIMB EVERY MOUNTAIN, FORD EVERY STREEEEEEAM.."
I may have a job at a German restaurant. I have no expertise in the german culinary area but i sure can heartily exclaim "SCHNITZEL" with gusto. HA i even beat the semi-fluent in German ben mackney to a part as a nazi officer in the year ten play BECAUSE of that brilliant schnitzel exclamation.
did you know they're against blasphemy now?
