Interests:I'm interested in making people feel that chasing rainbows is not a lost cause. I believe that we can all find what we want so long as we're prepared to look hard enough. Expertise:I am an expert in talking bullshit with complete strangers. Sometimes i even make them laugh. Occupation:Artist Industry:Art
Quote of the day to make you sound clever and mystical: I’m not being unreasonable but if this shit isn’t sorted soon I’m gonna go fucking mad…
Dear Diary: There’s a disaster brewing and, through no fault of my own, I’m gonna get caned for it. All I did was rely on a fellow professional to do his fucking job and somehow he and his entire staff have fucked up the simplest of tasks because they were too lazy to chase up a damn phone call.
This shit has been going on a for over a month and I’m so fucked off now that, all evening, I’ve been reciting over and over in my head what I’m going to say to the prick tomorrow morning. I can’t be arsed to go into the whole rant here but, suffice to say, it involves a lot of sarcasm and heavy use of the phrase “you are a cunt”.
Anyway, as of five minutes ago, I’m feeling much better: I walked through the front door and saw a shoe box shaped package with my name on it. I tore away the packaging to reveal the three stripes that I was expecting and very nearly gave a (very masculine) yelp of joy. It was my long awaited pair of new badass Predator football boots! My much loved current pair have been through four years of having the crap kicked outta them and, whilst being held together by years of sweat and bits of dirt, have been breaking the piss outta my feet for months.
These kicks are, quite simply, the most beautiful boots I’ve seen in years, so beautiful in fact that I’m wearing them around the flat punching stud shaped holes into the carpet. I’m sure that my housemates wouldn’t appreciate this fact but, since they’re all out, I can do what the hell I like. So it’s now, with great pleasure, that I embrace my new found bought friends and consign my old companions to vault of history (the bin).
Quote of the day to make you sound clever and mystical: “Move ahead, go forth with a flame burning within your heart and bear your pride upon the sea.”
Dear Diary: I don’t have any heroes, but if I did, Matt Harding would be one of them.
His video makes me so happy I get a lump in my throat:
Quote of the day to make you sound clever and mystical: “Hang in there mate…..”
Dear Diary: I’ve been back for about month and I already need another holiday. Suffice to say I didn’t get discovered by a super rich benefactor or movie director, and I’m now back in London facing the credit crunch full in the face and hoping to keep hold of my pitiful job. Anyway, New York was sweet, though not as vibrant and amazing as the movies had led me to believe.
We managed to cram in pretty much everything on the tourist trail and had a lot of laughs getting lost along the way. I would have loved to have spent more time downtown but I suppose it’ll have to wait till next time when I go with the night owls.
People have asked me what my favourite bit was and when I tell them it was the Brooklyn Bridge, they look at me as if I just tucked into a packet of salt and vinegar badger shit. But, for me, it was one of the few sights that really was ‘just like the movies’ and, in truth, that’s all I was ever looking for.
Getting lost in the movies; it’s all we ever look for.
