Rock 'n' roll. Yeah me. I've been really blitzing a lot of things recently and having loads of fun. London is just fucking great, in fact I'm just generally enjoying life more and more. I've stopped being so precious about myself; loosened up a lot.
So another weekend of getting very pissed, snogging Australians, pretending Im Norweigen, screaming Robert De Niro quotes, giving long speeches about how I've learnt to like myself, talking to gay guys, talking to 18 year old girls and moaning about how bad Bromley is, telling a Swiss doctor he looks like Alan Shearer, shouting abuse to someone for a reason I cant even remember, trying to explain how good the DVD version of Fiona Apple's new album is to a bemused German business consultant, chatting up a Brazilian cloak-room assistant and getting her number and probably other stuff I cant even remember. God, I better not check my bank balance, fun isn't cheap.
I get the house to myself for a month starting the end of November. For some reason this seems pretty exciting and reminds me of all those strange old coming of age films where the kid (yeah I know, the kid isnt 30 fucking years old but..) has the place to himself and within a few hours the place is filled up with people, strippers are doing coke in the bathroom and Hell's Angels are riding through the hallway.
No, I've got no idea what I'm talking about either. My brain is frazzled. I need a bath.
So another weekend of getting very pissed, snogging Australians, pretending Im Norweigen, screaming Robert De Niro quotes, giving long speeches about how I've learnt to like myself, talking to gay guys, talking to 18 year old girls and moaning about how bad Bromley is, telling a Swiss doctor he looks like Alan Shearer, shouting abuse to someone for a reason I cant even remember, trying to explain how good the DVD version of Fiona Apple's new album is to a bemused German business consultant, chatting up a Brazilian cloak-room assistant and getting her number and probably other stuff I cant even remember. God, I better not check my bank balance, fun isn't cheap.
I get the house to myself for a month starting the end of November. For some reason this seems pretty exciting and reminds me of all those strange old coming of age films where the kid (yeah I know, the kid isnt 30 fucking years old but..) has the place to himself and within a few hours the place is filled up with people, strippers are doing coke in the bathroom and Hell's Angels are riding through the hallway.
No, I've got no idea what I'm talking about either. My brain is frazzled. I need a bath.
VIEW 16 of 16 COMMENTS
rys:
Now that sounds like an awesome time!!!
snowballinhell:
What??????????????????????????????????
I'm NOT impressed now
What about the Sunday? Will you be free then?

