Brother, can you spare a dime?
I am single and broke. I got my drink spiked on Friday. My mum found weed that wasn't actually mine in my jeans the next morning. I stepped in a scalding hot cup of tea, and then on my cactus. A can of soup fell on my head. I pulled off a hangnail and it shredded halfway down my thumb. My prescription for my contacts has changed, so I'm getting a migraine from seeing funny.
Despite this, I'm feeling pretty positive. (Admittedly it may just be dementia from the soup can and the migraine, but meh. Embrace it while you can). I might not have a job, but at least I can look for one: not like trying to regrow a limb or something. Mum was unbelievably cool about the weed thing once we'd both established that a) it wasn't mine, because I "don't do drugs" and b) it wasn't mine, I can't AFFORD drugs, to the extent that she gave it back and gave me a muffin before I went out to locate the actual owner. The cactus spines were minimal and easy to remove, and the soup can and hangnail sucked, but I guess I can't ask for a perfect weekend.
Last night I watched Gozu, which was cool, although it had a lot of lactation in it for some reason. And watching the last scene further enforced my aversion to ever having children, which is a blessing on the world we can all be thankful for. Today I hung out with Jess' ex, Rich. Everyone thinks he's a dick. I mean, ok, he's a bit arrogant, and he's incredibly woe-is-me if you talk to him on msn. But he's a nice person, and a laugh to talk to. We walked around Romford and tried to sell his retro video games, but to no avail, since the pre-pubescent shop assistent needed to see ID or something. So we walked around Rapheal's Park, and talked about Jess, Joe, funny suicides and how Richard finds dogs sexually attractive. There was a particularly funny three-legged dog hopping around with incredible agility, who, in my mind, is now called Stumpy. Then we walked around looking for coffee, but a sinister-looking, fag-wielding Starbucks employee in a tight t-shirt was packing away the chairs by the time we got there, and the one in Sainsbury's was closed. We went to a scum cafe cum kebab place for some muck in a cup instead. Closer to Italia you shall never get.
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Despite this, I'm feeling pretty positive. (Admittedly it may just be dementia from the soup can and the migraine, but meh. Embrace it while you can). I might not have a job, but at least I can look for one: not like trying to regrow a limb or something. Mum was unbelievably cool about the weed thing once we'd both established that a) it wasn't mine, because I "don't do drugs" and b) it wasn't mine, I can't AFFORD drugs, to the extent that she gave it back and gave me a muffin before I went out to locate the actual owner. The cactus spines were minimal and easy to remove, and the soup can and hangnail sucked, but I guess I can't ask for a perfect weekend.
Last night I watched Gozu, which was cool, although it had a lot of lactation in it for some reason. And watching the last scene further enforced my aversion to ever having children, which is a blessing on the world we can all be thankful for. Today I hung out with Jess' ex, Rich. Everyone thinks he's a dick. I mean, ok, he's a bit arrogant, and he's incredibly woe-is-me if you talk to him on msn. But he's a nice person, and a laugh to talk to. We walked around Romford and tried to sell his retro video games, but to no avail, since the pre-pubescent shop assistent needed to see ID or something. So we walked around Rapheal's Park, and talked about Jess, Joe, funny suicides and how Richard finds dogs sexually attractive. There was a particularly funny three-legged dog hopping around with incredible agility, who, in my mind, is now called Stumpy. Then we walked around looking for coffee, but a sinister-looking, fag-wielding Starbucks employee in a tight t-shirt was packing away the chairs by the time we got there, and the one in Sainsbury's was closed. We went to a scum cafe cum kebab place for some muck in a cup instead. Closer to Italia you shall never get.
x