Wednesday, August 30, 2006

I was so drunk that day

I live a very insular life right now. What with Magnus and my new/old job, I spend a lot of time on my own staring at this screen. So it was a beautiful thing on Sunday to go to the Carnival for the first time. Not least of all because it was Tom’s birthday on the day after (HAPPY BIRTHDAY MAN!). It was great though, not because I hung out with thousands of people in a street party (I’m still too afraid to talk to strangers) but because I saw most of my friends smile that day and there were no bad feelings afterwards.

Dave wasn’t too happy. He doesn’t like strangers any more than me. Probably less. And it didn’t help that I treated him like a girl who I was trying to get to have a good time (I enlisted a drunken Nick’s help to grab Dave’s arms and make him dance down the street a little). I only stopped when he reminded me that I hated it when people did that to me. I’m sorry for that Dave. I’m especially sorry I tried to pinch your cheeks to force a smile. No man has the right to touch another’s beard growth area.

Apart from that though, it was great. I mean frickin’ awesome. I’m upset that I have never been before because it makes me see the magic in this city that I feel I have been missing all my life. So viva la carnival. And viva Mr Thomas William Excelsior Inwood. They both rock.


Tuesday, August 22, 2006


The King of Bad Ideas grew a little older on Friday. That’s right, it was Sauls 24th Birthday. And a rave up time it was.

I have to be honest, I can’t remember much. I remember dancing for a long time, which means that I must have been exceptionally fucked, and I remember people giving me odd looks, but that’s about it. Oh except for all the people coming up to me and asking for drugs (that always happens to me though. I must be one drug dealing looking motherfucker). Kathy says that when we came and woke her up at 5 am, we all seemed pretty happy though, so I’m assuming it was a good night.

I’m still afraid though. I haven’t been out of the house in four days, except in my garden. I’ve got this feeling that something happened. That I did something. And although I can’t remember much about that night, I’m afraid that if I’m allowed to be around too many people too soon, that I might just do it again!

But anyway, enough about me. Let us all join together in praising the man of the week, Mr Saul Graff. A guy who has been there for me every time I’ve needed him to be. A man who makes me laugh every time I meet up with him. A legend.

Saul man, happy birthday. And many motherfucking happy returns.

Thursday, August 17, 2006

A Little Bag Of Justin

I gave blood yesterday for the first time. I’ve always wanted to do it, but something has always stopped me. Also, strangely my mum has always been against it. She has always thought that I should save my blood for myself for some reason, so used to frequently rip up and throw away the letters from the blood donation people. They got so pissed off with me not coming to the sessions that eventually they sent me a letter saying “This is your final letter. We can’t afford to keep posting things to people like you who just won’t give blood no matter how many chances you are given”. Strong stuff. Trying to shame me into giving blood.

I still got another letter later from them saying “One final chance. Please, we need your blood. PLEASE.” After that it just descended into begging. So after this long build up, I was a bit disappointed when I did finally give blood. I have always thought it would be a wonderful and yet deeply gross experience; with blood pouring out of your arm while nurses are stuffing you with cookies and muffins and forcing money into your other hand. No money though. No muffins either. Just little packs of biscuits the nurses had stolen from hotel rooms. And I didn’t even feel all mega fucked up afterwards. I was hoping for a light inebriation, but all I got was a slight confusion, which didn’t really make much difference.

It wasn’t really gross either. And it only took like 5 minutes. So I guess my point is – give blood. You might as well. It’s not difficult, and it leaves you with a feeling that you may have helped save someone’s life. Unless some stupid nurse drops your blood and the bag bursts and so really you have just made some cleaning ladies day a bit worse. But either way, at least I know that there is a little bag of Justin out there somewhere, just waiting to fuck somebody up.