I had an absolutely awesome weekend in London... activities included...
*A productive bus ride down
*Picnic in Regents Park
*Witnessing a seagull trying to eat a live pigeon and almost succeeding
*A spectacularly drunken day which included some minor celeb spotting (some bloke off something we'd all seen but couldn't quite remember the name of, Julian Clary walking his surprisingly non-camp dog, some bint off Loose Women and Danny from Embrace apparently), prank calls to my Mum and various other people and wondering where we could live in London if we all put together.
*Meeting up with SG types for a few hours of fun
*The National Gallery... again
*Stupidly hot chilli eating
*A rubbish bus ride home during which I fantasised about smashing the bus driver's head in with my shoe just to find a little switch that in there that might speed up time and therefore end the bus ride quicker... I've been reading too much Charlie Brooker btw.
Well now i'm back home.. and having just watched a Johnny Cash documentary on TV (I knew t was a mistake) I feel positively miserable. But i challenge any one of you to watch this video and not cry all the fluid out of you...
If you got through that without blubbing your actual head off you're just not human and you might as well volunteer to have yourself melted down to make frying pans or something you robot!
Whenever I hear Johnny's voice sing in his later years I don't hear the words anymore... I just hear the question "What the fuck are you doing with your life Emma?" and "Why are you sat in a rented apartment in fucking Wakefield when you could be traveling? You could be anywhere, but you're not are you? no! You're in a rented flat in Wakefield and you will be for at least a year!" Granted, my rented flat is ace, and it contains lots of ace things, I love it. But who cares? In years to come when you're swapping stories with someone who has a life to tell, they'll be regaling me with stories of interesting times past and I'll tell them about that time I got a new sofa or that one day that I put a photo frame up by myself. I am fully aware that I'm in a sulk due to the fact that this time last year I was mere weeks into my 3 month trip around the west cost of the states, in fact today I was in San Diego about to set off for Hollywood. In fact, on the 8th May expect me to be in a proper mard... I'll probably post why then.
Right, enough winging, I'm off to watch a zombie film to cheer myself up!
*A productive bus ride down
*Picnic in Regents Park
*Witnessing a seagull trying to eat a live pigeon and almost succeeding
*A spectacularly drunken day which included some minor celeb spotting (some bloke off something we'd all seen but couldn't quite remember the name of, Julian Clary walking his surprisingly non-camp dog, some bint off Loose Women and Danny from Embrace apparently), prank calls to my Mum and various other people and wondering where we could live in London if we all put together.
*Meeting up with SG types for a few hours of fun
*The National Gallery... again
*Stupidly hot chilli eating
*A rubbish bus ride home during which I fantasised about smashing the bus driver's head in with my shoe just to find a little switch that in there that might speed up time and therefore end the bus ride quicker... I've been reading too much Charlie Brooker btw.
Well now i'm back home.. and having just watched a Johnny Cash documentary on TV (I knew t was a mistake) I feel positively miserable. But i challenge any one of you to watch this video and not cry all the fluid out of you...
If you got through that without blubbing your actual head off you're just not human and you might as well volunteer to have yourself melted down to make frying pans or something you robot!
Whenever I hear Johnny's voice sing in his later years I don't hear the words anymore... I just hear the question "What the fuck are you doing with your life Emma?" and "Why are you sat in a rented apartment in fucking Wakefield when you could be traveling? You could be anywhere, but you're not are you? no! You're in a rented flat in Wakefield and you will be for at least a year!" Granted, my rented flat is ace, and it contains lots of ace things, I love it. But who cares? In years to come when you're swapping stories with someone who has a life to tell, they'll be regaling me with stories of interesting times past and I'll tell them about that time I got a new sofa or that one day that I put a photo frame up by myself. I am fully aware that I'm in a sulk due to the fact that this time last year I was mere weeks into my 3 month trip around the west cost of the states, in fact today I was in San Diego about to set off for Hollywood. In fact, on the 8th May expect me to be in a proper mard... I'll probably post why then.
Right, enough winging, I'm off to watch a zombie film to cheer myself up!
VIEW 12 of 12 COMMENTS
And cheers
Thx. for your well wishes on my B-day.