Did you miss me?
Hello team. I just remembered I had this when I was going through my mental-Rollerdex of ‘Passwords I have Forgotten’.
So. News. Not much has changed. Well a lot has since the last post but that update/tell your nan shit is boring. EXCEPT….my nans are all dead. So for an update I’d have to go outside in the street and shout out into the ether what I’d been up to. The neighbours wouldn’t care. There was someone out there playing a harmonica earlier. Every third day, the crack-head off the top floor of Coningham Towers’ girlfriend stands outside my room calling his name. One day, when it’s summer, I’ll get a pool-cue and poke it out the window into her thigh.
The Crack-Head’s surname is Haddaway. Every three months he gets some sort of official cheque in the post. I’m hoping it’s the royalties from What Is Love?. That would make the eternal cunt-fuckery at least 4% bareable. He steals our post. He stole my ukulele case and his bird stole some postal tampons I was meant to be reviewing. My review: ‘I didn’t feel them at all seeing as they were 2 floors away. 0/10 for absorbency’.
I went to Dragersize tonight. Dragersize is an exercise class run by my Gay BFF. (Every tragically single thirty-something woman must have a gay bff if she’s not to get too fat.) He’s six and a half ft tall and from NY. In this incarnation it’s run by his alter-ego: Sharon Husbands. I KNOW RIGHT? On paper I should hate this man but in real life I like him enough to marry him if his visa goes doolally again. He’s already met my mom and she approves. She just wants me to call someone else when I’m crying though so anyone will do. LOLZ.
So, Dragersize is an exercise class run by a screaming drag queen with more make up than me on but no wig cause she’s a fraud. And she sweats more than me. And I sweat like a fat lass in the queue at Greggs. Tonight though I had a boo-boo. I looked great (Goth I decided was my glam-theme this week….black sequin hot-pants, cape…you know?) but unfortunately I hadn’t eaten. AND I took a pile of Tramadol on my way to class. For my fucked hips. About 20 mins into class, body said no. It went dark. All closing in. I blacked out and it was AMAZING! A little bit.
I went back in after I’d rolled in the corridor a bit until a child came in and looked at me and asked why I was doing it. Then we got our free beer and then went to the pub and had dinner. there are far more Americans than there are me so I end up saying weird things like ‘pants’ and ‘egg-plant’ and ‘Rachel Zoe’.
I met a crying middle-aged Baltic woman on the street. She couldn’t tell me what was wrong so I directed her to the police station and she hugged me. Then I fell off a step and knocked my friend’s beer out her hand and all down my cape and I had to give her my beer. That bit was shit.
Look….I’m great
luv u bye xx
Ps my teeth hurt
pps if any beauty companies are interested in using me to review their products under duress, I do wear a full face of make up during weekly dragersize. Last week I had plentiful good things to say about my eyelash glue. This week, MAC eye make-up = achieved. Urban Decay lipstick = must try harder.
Also, great-rack. 