What's with this crazy-arse weather? Last night it was like midsummer, hot and sultry. Singlets. Shorts. It felt like 30 degrees. Global warming? Nah?
The fish and chip shop was shut? Yes, um, er, still on Pritikin.
The day drifted into evening like sails in the sunset.
I say that a good smile can win me over. But, it has to be a cheeky smile. Someone has to engage me to win my heart.
Alex and Ravi are too passive. Ravi just text me, How are you? Haven't heard from you?
No, you haven't, I simply wanted to reply.
Cheekiness. Upfrontedness. A touch of naughtiness is essential.
I can't do timid.
I do enough standing back for all concerned.
I got to looking at prostitutes on line. I was stoned and bored, clearly I had eaten way too much sugar. Staring and restless. Mindless, boggle-eyed. My God! Is life not fair or what? Genetically perfect, followed by genetically perfect. Pages of them. London, Paris? It's a toss up for who has the best whore. Ha, ha.
One of them messaged me out of the blue, (he must have been looking at the tracks) said he'd do me for free, he was bored, which, I guess, I should take as a compliment. Except, Sean lives in London, which, I guess, he knew when he made the offer.
Mandarin and Nutella, yum. Can you tell I'm on the j's again. Just run out, last night. Danger city! So, I went to bed early. No cigarettes for this boy.
I had to meet Guido in Collingwood up a lane. He walked over and was hiding behind a Peppercorn Tree. He's a ham. He plays it sometimes. Depends what he's been doing, clearly a good Saturday night was had by him.
Just muesli and coffee this morning, for me, though.
I've got the munchies something chronic, that's weird, haven't had them in years. It was kind of funny for a while, until I caught sight of myself in the bathroom mirror. Now I'm caffined to the max.
I've been home alone all weekend, I like it. It makes a change. Space, place to myself.
I should go jogging.
giggle
I've got perfect pillows on my bed, for sitting up with six more seasons of Friends.
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