So, I get back from my holiday. Wait. Let me start again. I get back from my week of hell which included loud northerners, evil children, no television, being drunk and kissing a boy with a Somerset accent because he looked like Shane from boyzone (my pre raving homosexual crushsad I know), my heart being placed on the conveyor belt at a pedigree chum factory, and the weather being complete wank in true British style. So yeah, there was my holiday. And then there was the epic 6hour drive home. Then there was walking in to my kitchen on my return, to find my mother making some kind of bizarre concoction with a bottle of brandy, fruit, and an old plastic cereal dispenser. Hmm. Briar was very pleased to see me. She wont leave my side. It was cute at first, but its been going on for a couple of hours now and I keep tripping over her.
So yeah. My holiday - Brilliant in places, but utterly shit for most of it. I mostly went to about 37586932452 art galleries some of which contained the most wank art work I have ever clapped eyes on. And then the rest of the time, I mostly sat on cliffs and watched cormorants. Theyre some comical blighters you know.
Today I was the ultimate emo. I sat in Exeter Service Station moping in to a cappuccino made by a rude Devonshire boy called Mark, and a small child starts tugging on her parents arm and points at me declaring, Mummy, that lady is sad. Thanks small child, for making me die in Exeter Service station. Im not at all embarrassed by the hoards of travelling holidaymakers who thought I was on drugs, or Satan, or an all out flaming emo. Pffft. Flaming emo sounds like a cocktail. Anyway.
Its not a good day.
Or week.
Or the rest of my life.
In other news. My precious runner bean plant has taken over my room whilst Ive been away. Brilliant.
In yet more news, I saw Keith Chegwin in St Ives. The place, not the facial apricot scrub. Thats good stuff by the way.
I've never been so excited about seeing my television set before. I'm obsessed with TV at the moment. Hopefully i'll grow out of it soon, like i do with everything. Well... almost everything, somethings you just can't grow out of, no matter how hard you try.
So yeah. My holiday - Brilliant in places, but utterly shit for most of it. I mostly went to about 37586932452 art galleries some of which contained the most wank art work I have ever clapped eyes on. And then the rest of the time, I mostly sat on cliffs and watched cormorants. Theyre some comical blighters you know.
Today I was the ultimate emo. I sat in Exeter Service Station moping in to a cappuccino made by a rude Devonshire boy called Mark, and a small child starts tugging on her parents arm and points at me declaring, Mummy, that lady is sad. Thanks small child, for making me die in Exeter Service station. Im not at all embarrassed by the hoards of travelling holidaymakers who thought I was on drugs, or Satan, or an all out flaming emo. Pffft. Flaming emo sounds like a cocktail. Anyway.
Its not a good day.
Or week.
Or the rest of my life.
In other news. My precious runner bean plant has taken over my room whilst Ive been away. Brilliant.
In yet more news, I saw Keith Chegwin in St Ives. The place, not the facial apricot scrub. Thats good stuff by the way.
I've never been so excited about seeing my television set before. I'm obsessed with TV at the moment. Hopefully i'll grow out of it soon, like i do with everything. Well... almost everything, somethings you just can't grow out of, no matter how hard you try.
What's the story balamory? I have lost track of your feral ways
xXx
Oh and are you referring to Keith Chegwin running around a campsite with a megaphone at 7am? I've seen this on GMTV and if I had seen him he'd be missing a leg and most of his teeth.
I HATE KEITH CHEGWIN
Where did you go camping? I mocked a friend of mine last night for going camping last week. He only managed one night before the weather drove him homeward.
I love that kids just ask questions. They don't give a fuck about who or what they just ask. I think it's priceless. I watched a really small boy ask a guy in a wheelchair "where are your legs?" I thought the mum was going to die.
viva la tv