Hi Hi Hi Hi Bonj
I am aware that I haven't updated my blog in a number of weeks, an excuse for which i am completely searching my pockets for but do not have. I can't really talk that well at present moment, as i have somehow given myself a slight chealsea smile on the right side of my mouth (mmm, attractive) but you dont really have to open your mouth to type, unless, like lots of the time i am, you're trying to smoke hands-free holding a fag in your teeth.
If anyone can actually remember how ive given myself this injury then please...share with the circle.
I have, however, had and seen loads of stuff happen that i've ranted away to whomsoever has the misfortune of being next to me or for some unknown reason has actually CHOSEN to be with me at these moments 'ohmyguzzzzzzzmtOTALLYgunnaputthisonmyblogahahaha'
But suffice to say there have been too many of these moments (apologies, friends and strangers) for me to actually reference blog-wards everything that has popped up.
I mean i did actually SEE courtney love in the flesh and everything.
And me and lizzy are bezzie mates with darwin deez but yknow...NBD. Well, sort of BD, Liz has actually penned quite a catchy song/rap about our beautiful friendship triangle but release dates are strictly under raps and i dont wanna get sued by her record label (hit in the face) for saying anything else about it.
More recently though, after the breif peroid in my life when i did actually think that diagrams of chemical equasions were my only friends and that one fateful day when i did actually spend over 12 hours in the library, a few notable fun occasions have...occured.
PARKLIFE! Festival, a rollable distance from my both old and new Manchester residences was saturday. Despite the rather agreeable lineup, made even more agreeable by the 25 quid ticket tag, I still only managed to fully witness fourtet, with a way more than proportionate amount of my time spent laughing and running around wrapped up in blanket with jack, or lying on said blanket with blanket and mine's mutual friend Pascal. In fact, the blanket was the best mate I had all day, it came grinding along with me to Total Garage and schmoozed it's way to a total of four parties before sheltering me from the rain on the 6am walk back to it's house afterwards.
Holla Blanket.
Throughout the end of year, summervibe, carnival time ive actually been able to chill and read on a number of occasions...
...and am highly anticipating going absoloutely QUACKERS and SHAKING MY TAIL FEATHER on the London Ducktour this saturday for L's birthday. The website discribes the experience as 'DRIVING FROM THE ROAD BEFORE DRAMATICALLY LAUNCHING INTO THE THAMES '.
Lizzy, says i upon the suggestion of the magical anphibious trip, this is one of your better ideas. But riddle me this. Dont you think an altogether more 'dramatic' entrance to the Thames would be, say...
Telling someone, possibly an errent boyfriend, they were gonna have a nice pedicure, before applying relaxing cucumber slices to their eyes. After placing their feet into one of those foot spa-whirlpool bath things, utilising the element of suprise, and when they were least expecting, adding some cement mix ('bath salts, babe') to the whirlpool mixture. Then, and highly....suprisingly...cucumber eyes would wake up with their adulterous feet entirely encased in concrete.
And then be thrown into camden lock.
Alive.
SUPRISE, WANKER!
