NOTHIN' TO SAY
NOTHIN' TO DO
SINGING AWAY
TO AN OLD FAVOURITE TUNE
CUT ME IN HALF
SELL ME TO A ZOO
I JUST WANT TO BE LOVED
EVEN THOUGH I HURT YOU
Bless my pudding;
it's just getting hot.
My head is permissive,
I am soft spoken and unhealthy,
my mum is a doctor and my dad is dead of cancer. Mum and me live in a small house in Nottingham and my big sister is in France, living in a community that allows people with severe disabilities to work and live with as much independance as possible by means of a village enviroment and communal housing.
and I am very pusilanimous
but I did know what that means?
From now on I am going to try and turn this thing around because for about the fiftieth day this year I had a joint before I ate anything today. And now I'm swipe-ing replies to Djezzica my ex girlfriend who kissed someone who isn't the boy who she's "unofficially" with. The good part was when Jed rang her during this conversation. If I have to ignore my friends to get better I will. Coming to you live, bold and italicised He called twice again so I'm taking the whiskey that I bearly knoched last night, and a spliff, and I'm going to walk to Hyson Green.
- Two or three years ago Nottingham City Transport and all of the other, smaller bus opperators subtitled the entire system "The Big Wheel" in a bid which I presume attempted to justify the ONE AND ONLY bus route that goes AROUND the city, (and certainly aimed to parlour to our local pride of the Goose Fair, be that for the candy floss and vivid childhood memories given or the anual vandalising of The Goose on the round-about). I don't go into Nottingham City Centre because I am scared of getting blown up. So I should start walking and, as Missy's displaying a similar story, I will add that I will walk the same way that Sam was going when he was victime to one of Nottingham's most notorious crime cliches: halfway through a mugging by a gang of vacuum-skulled sportswear enthusiasts a man jogs around the corner and, with gun, demands the spoils, before requiring to ask Sam and his floppy friend - who's name I forget - to empty their pockets.
NOTHIN' TO DO
SINGING AWAY
TO AN OLD FAVOURITE TUNE
CUT ME IN HALF
SELL ME TO A ZOO
I JUST WANT TO BE LOVED
EVEN THOUGH I HURT YOU
Bless my pudding;
it's just getting hot.
My head is permissive,
I am soft spoken and unhealthy,
my mum is a doctor and my dad is dead of cancer. Mum and me live in a small house in Nottingham and my big sister is in France, living in a community that allows people with severe disabilities to work and live with as much independance as possible by means of a village enviroment and communal housing.
and I am very pusilanimous
but I did know what that means?
From now on I am going to try and turn this thing around because for about the fiftieth day this year I had a joint before I ate anything today. And now I'm swipe-ing replies to Djezzica my ex girlfriend who kissed someone who isn't the boy who she's "unofficially" with. The good part was when Jed rang her during this conversation. If I have to ignore my friends to get better I will. Coming to you live, bold and italicised He called twice again so I'm taking the whiskey that I bearly knoched last night, and a spliff, and I'm going to walk to Hyson Green.
- Two or three years ago Nottingham City Transport and all of the other, smaller bus opperators subtitled the entire system "The Big Wheel" in a bid which I presume attempted to justify the ONE AND ONLY bus route that goes AROUND the city, (and certainly aimed to parlour to our local pride of the Goose Fair, be that for the candy floss and vivid childhood memories given or the anual vandalising of The Goose on the round-about). I don't go into Nottingham City Centre because I am scared of getting blown up. So I should start walking and, as Missy's displaying a similar story, I will add that I will walk the same way that Sam was going when he was victime to one of Nottingham's most notorious crime cliches: halfway through a mugging by a gang of vacuum-skulled sportswear enthusiasts a man jogs around the corner and, with gun, demands the spoils, before requiring to ask Sam and his floppy friend - who's name I forget - to empty their pockets.
Nieghbers is great. "Twice a day". Quite.
Quiet.
It isn't her turn.
It's Dj's, only, I am too tired and too stoned and I got there at 17:35, that's when the show starts. I ate a bowl of Fruite and Fiber with semi skinned milk and blew my nose a few times before I left because, I'd gone solely for the purpose of giving her bus fare to see her boyfriend who I am sure has been skanking her, but she, (Djezz) skanked HER with him, and Dj was going to West Bridgeford to make up with Jed right then. I told her to be less evasive and I don't like the way she involved me.
I walked straight back again. I wanted to write about how I got to Djezzica's house but I was stiff and hungry so I sat at the PC for a while. Until Grannie, Marion and my mum arrive home. Waiting for dinner gives me appertite for sandblasting so I decide, again, to go out into the night. My dinner in the front room with one of the cats is hecktic, tasted by Rocky and unfinished.
I was never convinced that the story about Sam and (this guy called lowis, or something) was actually true and I heard tonight that it was just a crack addict who coerced them down an alley way. Dicks.
Before I left for Djezzica's I was a) frantically looking for a warm coat, b) deciding on a mode of transport and, of course c) which is considering whether or not to bottle out.
The bus fare tows me there completely, through a spliff without music; no proper lighter just pieces of matchbox and scattered matches; "Not my bike, it's too tough, and don't take the phone"; finding my wallet and keys. [There is at least 1 other bus route. The Fourty, and it runs behind my back hedge.
I'd planned a brilliant entry, stumbled out into the now so attenuated highstreet, and loped all the way there, anenuator, not a traffic sympathiser but pelican crossing activist. Probably in recompence, as is my habit.
I drank the Irish whiskey with some bloods. Type-o. I don't know what got Ronan and the gang (Ha Ha. Zetia Familia) so up up and important. Kader was vexed. Guy was late, easy going. Last night I mean. Joe and Laur H., Tom and Teeq are less concerned with the zeightgiest or whatever, and they're watch is a fast one. With Ronan now in Birmingham looking for work as a TVcameraperson, these bloods are sweet.
Grrrr
xoxox
goodnight.x