i am employed. at Game. but i wont take that job.
I have also got an offer of a job from the Odeon which sounds hawt thanks to its promise of eight free cinema tickets a month, popcorn fights and parties.
I have an interview at Waterstones coming up which I think may suit me best of all.
I have the best memories of the Waterstones in Newcastle when i was a kid. they used to hand out leathery bookmarks and the kids department was warm, cosy and probably the place where i loved hanging out and learning to read.
I remember learning to read in my head. I was reading out loud, annoying the hell out of my mum who was also reading, i was lying on the floor and she reclining on the gold brocade sofa, when she suddenly said ''Dammit Kirsty cant you read in your head?!?!''
''No. How?''
''Just THINK the words as you see them!''
and it is that simple.
Anyone sitting here reading this and annoying the hell out of their parents/friends - just THINK the words. No, I dont really think that anyone who reads this can't read in their head yet.
Yesterday was good fun eating with Luke & Josh at Wagamama, Luke playing with his new toy, a lumographic camera, checking out babes with Rob and swinging clumsily round lamposts.
Oh and stealing magazines to read in coffee shops. Luke bought a polaroid camera from a charity shop for £4, and it still had some film in it! It was so old, the pictures came out yellow but very interesting. One was a ghostly apparition of me begging him to let ME buy the camera, and the other was of me looking disgruntled after HE bought the camera. But he has insisted he will buy me a brand new one for christmas. yep.
Today was mainly spent in bed, playing with Ilkka, reading magazines and eating pizza.

By the way, the ''duuuuude'' in the post below is a clickable link. clickit.

duuuuude.

i want this for christmas.
because i love trash.
i bet amanda gets it...i will be jealous.

today i make bacon sandwich and i do like this:

fresh bread with chewy crusts mm
lettuce
tomatoes
special bacon
and ketchup mm
then i do some big glass of orange juice and put washing machine on and watch britney and kevin get secretly married in their chaotic crap show and at the end kevin nearly cries he cant look in the camera though cuz he knows hes a big loser and i buy bramley apples for the pie and steal some cinammon and later when my toes are warm i will make pie

then we watch house of flying daggers ilkka bought it we went to see it at the cinema and it was ok but not reeeeeeeally good and i can watch it again it pretty.

mm big glass fresh orange. how twee.

GUEST BLOG ALERT

WELL WELL WELL, HERE IAM ITS ME LIL BENNIE P.
I AM AT KIRSTYS AND ILKKAS IT ISA FUN AND I AM SO DRUNK
oops ive been typeing in caps lock well kjiors5ty wantsv to go to baccus but i dont illka want to play james brown, and so do i
we are dancing ?
i love kirssty and i8lkka??? aLOT
i hate nick
na i dont i love himi
i talked to k about things and we singed about songs iam piussed so io dontb no wat i am saying?????@?????/
ilkka is steeeeeeez yes he is

i make 2 words today goooogy abnd shooooons
i love her and him wat wtf and lu#mo

GOOGLY SHOOOOONS
i like your googly shooons

=

LOVELY SHOOOOOES
i like your lovely shoes



product of job-hunting with lil ben.

chris nieratko

I have to say, i found this extremely funny...steez latte...hahahahah

i fucking fixed the fucking computer! (see what i mean about the swearing?)

im the osiris of this shit!

yeah! yeah! YEAH!

i give up on chronology

black snot
bad hash
oo ooooo
hacking cough
tried to write a story and failed. again. my ego gets in the way.
i write better and faster with a keyboard.
today will see me compiling old journals and thought processes into typeface.
natural helicopters spun past the window.
then a helicopter piloted by (presumably) a human zoomed past too.
the leaves are sky high.
much like ilkka.
he is drawing while im defragging.
we changed the futon in the living room into a bed.
its probably going to stay like that.
we're both fans of lying down.
its going to be hard for ilkka to stave off misery this winter.
he suffers badly from S.A.D
more than i do.
i like the dark and being indoors and even being outside with mittens and coats and jumpers.
i dont mind getting wet.
i like the smell of wet coats on the tube.
and i like the empathy with each other everybody has in extreme weather.

post no. 40-fucking-5!!! THE PARTY POST!

i just discovered how it feels to be a common little thief IN YOUR OWN HOME.
EXHILIRATING!
i'd do it again in a second.
however i cant. because the thing i stole was ILKKAS LAST CIGARETTE.
he is sleeping.


when he discovers it later i will be at work.
i work here
it is fun.
when i get home he will be asleep.

i will deny everything.
unless he reads this.

in which case i'll divert his attention to his penis by inflating his foreskin. if you havent tried that (girls) fucking do it. its funny.

post no. 45

i want to retract that statement. i hadnt actually tasted the bread. on tasting, it is divine. rosemary, garlic...quite sweet. beautiful. especially with the soup and lots of butter.

post no. 44

i do not make good bread
but i make AMAZING broccoli and almond soup.
i followed a recipe for bread. and made the soup up.
because i am brilliant like that.

post no. 43 - chronology does not bod well with my memory span :|

thats a mr. t sticker in finland

thats terry richardson

thats a spoonie g record. i dont like that particular track. i like ''love rap''. cuz im in looove. yeah!

thats the front of the classic clowes eightball no.1 comic. dan clowes has no website.
GET A WEBSITE DAN CLOWES YOU BIG FUCKING FAG.

yeah.

post no. 41

this is what i look like eating an apple.
god blogging is gay.
i wouldnt do it except its good practice for writing and i feel like if i cant persevere with a fucking blog i basically cant persevere with anything. i've been swearing a lot more recently and i love it so expect more of it, fuckers.
not that its for me to presume anyone reads this.
i wouldnt, for example.
i've been up since 6.30am. ilkka left for work and i was looking forward to going back to sleep when i suddenly realised that my fucking world was going to cave in unless i got a job. and by job i dont mean breaking my fucking back serving drunk trendy posers drink followed by a spate of intensive and gymnastical cleaning for a very minimal amount of cash, i mean A PROPER JOB.
of course, my proper job is being a writer that doesnt write anything, ''just knows'' there is a great contemporary masterpiece inside of her. so anyway i got up straight away and came online to find out what there is to do in the world of financial acumen for an unenducated dreamy type who has no real interest in money and just wants to have electricity at christmas. i evaded chat rooms and celebrity blogs and even raymi the minx
until about ten minutes ago. which is a fucking applaudable achievment these days.
i spent literally years worth of minutes trawling and have discovered that YES even without a degree, i too can earn money. as a fucking receptionist.
no, really its all quite positive stuff really. you (if like me, you found education tedious and far inferior to hotboxing yourself to death in cars with boys & bongs) can still go for the jobs graduates are going for. and be better than them with a bit of creativity. mwahahaha. so. onwards. bring on christmas, im totally ready for it.
tomorrow ilkka and i are going to the barbican to see Araki's
(i have to do that because this thing is BENT BENT BENT sir) exhibition at the barbican, and maybe to the (yawn) Tate Moderne because we are hip like that.

Adieu.


edit: as some of you may have read, what i originally wrote here was rather harsh. i apologise to the person in question that might have been particularly offended by the original post and i'd like to let them know that i am not feeling so violent about everything any longer and i wish them well.

post no. 41

edit

post no. 40....

ow/
jane seymour film in backjground
last night halloween party mill.
wearing stilletoes. looked amaing, got less and less amazing as the night progressed. un-amazing moment falling down stairs, sitting on floor getting wetter and wetter then realising im sitting on top of a beer can i spiked with my heel and is spurting all over me. pick up beer can and inspect it like the apes examining monolith in space odyssey, spraying beer in my own face. on swing in garden with daria lying in the tree above me. fucking love daria. carressing some girls breasts for like 10mins, examining them like the apes examining the monolith in space odyssey. get stoned, ilkka called me a fucking twat. find it hilarious, repeatedly annoy ilkka by laughing at him and asking ''is it a LANGUage barrier, do you think?'' omar disturbed at ilkkas aggro behaviour. reason for it? ilkka is scared because i nearly got punched in the face by some random dickhead ilkka let into the building. ilkkas scaredness manifests itsself as aggression towards me. awwwww. so sweet.
ehm
puked loads. red. drank sailor jerrys and cokes, red and white wine, whisky, beer smoked a shitload of cigarettes. made kedgeree for me and martyn for breakfast this morning.
yes.
i am a mess.

post no. 39 -things i have always wanted and have attained

• a good circle of friends
• my own flat
• the love of a good man (hahahahahahahahahahahahaha etc) yeah i really wrote that.
• a collection of books that establish me as a well read and informed individual.
• an enviable postcard collection
• to be a girl that cleanses, tones and moisturises, and drinks a healthy amount of water per day.
• to be the sort of girl that commences drinking mid-morning and doesnt stop.

there is a wasp that comes up to the window every day, to see if it can get in. what the hell does this wasp want?! every single day. i cant imagine what it sees in my flat that is so appealing. it must just dig the vibe, man.

post no. 38 - things i have always wanted but never attained.

• a fisher price a la carte kitchen
• a mr. frosty ice cone maker
• a rabbit
• an organised demeanour
• real moon boots (the ones that clearly say MOON BOOT on them. harrys dad has some red ones that fit me perfectly)
• a tattoo
• a manhattan-style open plan loft apartment
• to olly on the move :(
• a globe, real one, with wooden equator, and big wooden stand.

post no. 37

well ilkka is back avec whisky and cigarettes.
it is gorgeous.
greeted him like a great dane greets er...everyone, and we had an excellent night ;)
and today...today is so divine too.
more whisky...more marijuana....and more declarations of ''you're amazing.''
:)

HAPPY. DAYS.

post no. 35

i have about 50 million things to do as far as housework is concerned so that ilkka will not think i am a lazy slut who does nothing. i went to manchester goddammit. on a coach. i saw 3 art galleries and one museum and went to two parties and spoke to dave mirra and got drunk and had a candlelit salmon with habbledon. i am busy. all over england except where i live. tomorrow i will recieve food in the post. thank fucking christ for that. in the meantime i will eat what is remaining in the fridge ie: two strips of bacon and a tub of mustard. i wanted to make a pie for ilkkas return but hes vegetarian so it would only be able to be a mustard pie.
the kill your boyfriend picture is of a great comic by grant morrison (the invisibles) and you should check it out. its also relevant because although i am excited to see ilkka, i am also pissed off because he has not rung or owt in the entire time and thus i have felt UNLOVED.

post no. 35

fuck ilkka. no postcard no phonecall no text in 12 days.

post no. 34

well im back.
im glad the electricity wasnt cut off while i was away. that would be embarrasing when ilkka gets back tomorrow ''hi ilkka!!!'' ''hi retard that cant look after herself for twelve days!!!''. so. the internet will be cut off soon then. i guess some of the money i make should be put in my bank account instead of spent on beer. NEVERRRRRRRRR...repeat to infinity.
its freezing fucking cold up in this heezy and i've got no cigarettes and a fucking film with porn music is playing a womans mouth is taped up she is being mauled by a half naked man boring boring.
manchester rocked shit, except for the bit where i went to a hiphop night which i have completely fallen out of love with due to the large amount of wankers that frequent them dj woody played he was aight and i spoke to dave mirra on the phone. yeah the bmx-er. his friend was there and was talking to me and was a loser.
im hungry. EAT.
bye.
x

post no. 33 - LIVE FROM MANCHESTER

harry is in the shower. i got here 8.45pm last night. we went straight to ''fab cafe'' which was full of movie junk especially sci fi movie junk and it was a bit shit but they played blondie and it WASNT heart of glass or one way or another o i liked that. then we went to big hands because paige works there for four years and was leaving so they gave her an ipod with her name scratched in the back and it also said ''sorry you're leaving.'' it reminded me of leaving my last workplace and how i didnt even get a card and i was sad. i wanted to eat all of paiges cake and i think paige would have let me if it hadnt been for that damn simon....who was also there WITH SETH who found me tres ennui because i kept asking for his lighter, and wams put her bottom on my leg she is pretty, and paige came over to talk to simon who was about to mention his mum and i told paige his mum was dead (true) and we (me seth & simon) all creased up and paige just backed away slowly.
er....i ate a (gross) doner kebab i was sooooo hungry and all the grease dripped on my jeans leg and i just dont think a) it will ever come off and b) that i like it. :( sad face. oh and it was fucking rank.
we went to bed and now we have woke up and im trying to get harry to download some aqua teen hunger force. he lives with a guy called karl. hahahahaha!
bye. i will insert a picture belonging to harry to go with this post.
i love seth.
i love simon.
i love harry.

post no. 32

i always think its pathetic when i read peoples blogs, and despite their efforts they have no comments. when it comes to mine however, i am not particularly bothered. so im guessing that i am part of a large majority that will just throw the contents of their brain out there for the sake of it. with that in mind, i have no qualms telling you that today i feel somewhat depressed. it might have something to do with the drinking of beers and smoking of weed for about 7 hours straight yesterday with lil b, which did not amount to a particularly good nights sleep. it might have something to do with the inability to contact anyone i might like to due to a distinct lack of telephones round here. speaking of telephones, has anyone heard from ilkka cuz i havent. it might have something to do with the fact my mother has hurt feelings and its my fault. i would totally love a job right now. manchester tomorrow -yay.

post no. 31

its about 3.30pm, the time when kids finish school and thusly charge past my living room window in hoardes chanting. today they are chanting ''SHINY SHINY SHINY SHINY SHINY''.
its kind of a cold day today and im trying very hard to be in organised mode, but everything is just taking forever anyway. i can't tear myself away from messageboards or my mums 'suicide_si_depression' chat room which is full of shouting, bitching, gossiping but altogether extremely intelligent teenagers/early twentiers....and my mum. after i roll & smoke a cigarette, i will perform these tasks: (writing them here might help me actually gitton & do them)

1. put laundry into washing machine and activate machinery.
2. wash up & throw away old food from fridge
3. clean oven top
4. take bins out
5. de-clutter living room & sweep floors
6. fold and put away laundered laundry
7. sort out mountain of clothing on bedroom floor
8. sweep bedroom floor
9. do something absolutely insane & radical
10. go to work until 3am.
    

post no. 30

A man keeps ringing me and singing 'Stand and Deliver' down the line. Im always telling him he's got the wrong number, but he's adamant.

post no. 29

edit.

post no. 28

kirsty is going to manchester!
on saturday i will be boarding a coach full of silent asian people and heading on up to visit my bestest friend ever. harry is sad and miserable and thinks i am just the thing to cheer him up. im gonna take my best cheering up kit with me...ie...camera...dice game...pastry brush...scissors...comb....hats...bring it on dvd....and herbal tea.
yuh yuh yuh.

post no. 27

me and sage francis. i called him a cunt, he laughed, and we look like best friends.
i took this picture with my shitty webcam because i am retarded. i dont even own an ipod can you BELIEVE that shit. what sort of self respecting 23 yr old am i? FUCK.

post no. 26 what the fuck

hi
ilkkas been away for 2 days now.
my landlines been cut off so i cannot make phonecalls except from payphones which is gay.
last night martyn ben & luke came over. we got stoned and made martyn have really long legs, and played dice games, and uno and had beer and i forced martyn to stay against his will and if id have got my own way, ben & luke would have stayed too. i havent laughed so hard in a while.
this morning i made doorstop bacon sandwiches, bought an observer and read it.
yeah dude. i rock.

post no. 25 - News Just In

i went out to the shop to buy cigarettes. as i left the building i started running at full pelt, pretending I had just detonated a bomb and my apartment block was about to blow up. It was exhilirating for a moment. Then I ran into the crazy red-coat-red-hat lady, and she started running on the spot, imitating me, with a manic grin on her face. I acknowledged her by laughing too. Tres bizarre.
Everyday people eh?

post no. 25 - OR IS IT!!

HI
IM WEARING A SHIRT. its Ilkkas shirt. I'm in a fucking great mood....this morning has been gorgeous, as any morning that you spend in bed with your beau drinking kahvee, smoking, bouncing around like yogic flyers in crispy clean white bedlinen is, laughing and talking about holidays then you get up and dance together to the sounds of Pete Rock and then; one of you goes to work and the other one laments that they're not going to work for a few minutes before turning their attention to the fact that the proverbial world needs to be told that they're wearing a shirt and have had a great morning. You can thank me later.
I intend to punctuate this paragraph with a completely irrelivant picture of a shark.
The links section will be updated today as I am going to spend at least part of the afternoon exploring new realms of the internet.

post no. 22

its a picture fest. love this one taken at L's 21st birthday party.

post no. 22

pictures of my (& silkys) flat.

post no.21

from todays Guardian:

''Scientists in London have developed a genetically modified mosquito with fluorescent testicles that could save thousands of lives in the fight against malaria. The glowing gonads help them pick out the male insects, which can then be sterilised and released to wipe out natural insect populations. Mass releases of insects tackle several diseases, but malaria was more difficult because it was impossible to quickly separate male from female mosquitoes. Andrea Crisanti, who led the Imperial College study, said: ''The insects are ready for testing in the wild. This technology works and could make a real difference.'' ''

post no.20 (or something)

ilkka: i think i might do something sometime.
me: like what?
ilkka: i dunno i just havent really done anything for ages.

post no. 18

im thinking of dying my hair blonde. i stole all the necassary kit from sainsburys today. however after using a highly evolved and technical programme to prophesise the resulting effect, im not so sure.
what do YOU think?

post no.18

post no. 17

olivia is here, we are doing coffee and cigarettes.

post no. 16

post no. 15

i love myself.
yesterday i was consumed with self-loathing and hatred of generally being me, but i knew today would be different. and it is. its easy to exist in a tiny bubble but expand your self-awareness outside of that and everythings all good.
thank you for your time.

post no. 14

so raymi the minx, came, saw, thanked and stole a picture.
im enjoying bret easton ellis' new book lunar park.
the hero is called bret easton ellis.
a 12 year old girl hung herself a couple of days ago because her mother couldnt afford one rupee (two american cents) for some rice & oil cakes that all the other kids at school were eating. baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaawl. honestly i have bawled over this. this is just getting more and more disgusting and we all carry some responsibility because we just don't do enough. just being grateful for the food we eat and being aware of how privelidged we are would be a start.
yeah. thats obvious. but unless someone points out the obvious every now and again most of us just dont engage our brains.
bye bye.

post no. 13

ok. this is the truth. bout 5 years ago i got into the vice magazine forum and website cuz we couldn't get vice in the uk, and i'd been introduced to it by my canadian ex-boyfriend. so i got into the forum, and by proxy, i got into THIS blog. This girl is the originator, an example of how being fucked up is the best creative outlet available to humankind, along with kerouac, bukowski, hunter s thompson and all those beat guys. except shes a WOMAN! woo woo! . The only reason I attempt to make an effort at blogging is because of her, in a way. She makes blogging cool. as does THIS woman

as you can see, both incredible writers, an inspiration to me.
So you see. blogging is credible.

i am proud to share my earth with these amazing women.

post no. 11/12

post no. 11 (pictures)

post no. 10 (hangover style)

last night I watched Hedwig & the Angry Inch with amanda and it is the best film I have ever seen.

post no.9 (pharcyde lyrics)

if you really want me, bitch
take me 4 betta or 4 worse

its like this. in celluloid film of the hollywood variety, our hero lays dying from a bullet wound. the last words from his lips are ''tell my wife i love her.''

if you're not married but you are ''with'' someone and are living with them, the last words from your lips before you hit the ground in a puddle of retarded drunkeness BETTER be; ''tell my girlfriend im not coming home.''

seriously.

post no. 8

We haven't had a kettle for a long time. The old one blew up in a spectacular display of orange sparks. We were woken up yesterday morning by the buzzer which is fairly horrendous, by a postman declaring the arrival of a parcel. OK. I thought it was going to be my latest ebay foray which is a completely vile tie-dye fake fur affair which I whimsically purchased for £1.99. It wasn't. It was a (pretty swanky) kettle which a Mr. D Caulfield had won through 'Fabulous Prizes Ltd.' I got to the door and the parcel had been discarded and was on the doorstep, ominously. Then I heard a van beep and looked up to see the postman whizzing away.
Life is pretty good with a kettle.

Judging by the comments left on the last post, people seem to actually believe that I have given up smoking! Oh no no no no. I just couldn't afford them. We don't smoke in the flat anymore though, and the flat actually smells really cosy and home-y as a result. I drag my ass outside for a cigarette.
I'm watching the x-factor and collecting Kirstys on myspace.

post no. 7 (Goodbye, Dignity!)

just watched Goodbye, Lenin!
what an awesome film.
of course i was in floods of tears at the end, because the world isn't how *i* want it to be.
The score is absolutely incredible. It used to be played on rotation for about ten years in borders when the film came out, and made till transactions with random persons (especially men) remarkably profound. as in: ''thats £5.99 please *look up, and on eye contact; oops i just fell in love for the umpteenth time today*'' very tiring, falling in love all day.
It sounded completely different, watching the film of course. Being that the film is very funny for the most part, and not romantic at all. well...ok bits are romantic. romantic idealism, but really good to watch a film where relationships between boys & girls or boys & boys or girls & girls fall to the wayside for once.
When is britain going to have its' Berlin Wall equivalent? and whats it going to be? lets start campaigning for something good to happen. Can't think what though.
i haven't smoked a cigarette in 25 hours. this is by far the longest i have gone without a cigarette for a good five years or so. my muscles are tense and im chewing on my fingers like a mental patient. everytime ilkka says something i respond with a barely concealed hatred, and its usually ''i KNOW''.
ie:
''thats filmed with a super 8....''
''i KNOW''
*silence*
''er...sorry. bear with me ok?''
ilkka would actually prefer i smoke because im a nasty piece of work if i don't.

Post no.6 (fashion)

It is the fashion to wear highly constrictive tapered 'skinny jeans', and I liked this fashion from the moment I saw Kate Moss' spindly limbs bending out all over the pages of Heat magazine, so I ebayed for them, also thinking they would be good to wear with my pending lace up baseball boots. I recieved them this morning. I am wearing them. They are not Balenciaga, and they did not cost £8,500 but they fit WELL. As they are supposed to, they widen my hips, make a bulbous ball out of my behind, follow my calves down to their natural end and make my ankles look brittle and tiny. Gorgeous. For some reason, this is exactly how I wanted them to be. They look kind of grotesque, and quite probably in about 3 months they will be made redundant in favour of comfort, as they are currently cutting off my circulation below the knee, but for the time being, I am in love with my new jeans and looking forward to the Edie Sedgwick comparisons they will (not) attract.

post no. 5

My mobile phone was cut off this morning. Should be an interesting (sic: arduous) foray into the awkward clunky and cold world of payphones and missed job opportunities.
Ilkka and I went to the hospital today. Ilkka fell off his skateboard yesterday and thought he might have cracked a rib. Naw...he's just bruised. Women have a remarkably higher pain threshold than men. I have always been amazed by mens' poor ability to cope in any way whatsoever with pain. I suppose this phenomenon is actually logical, given that we are the bearers of children.
Tonight I will be cooking butternut squash - however you do THAT. I have no idea. It just sounds like a very interesting and tasty vegetable that I would like to eat.

Oh yes. Today is Talk Like a Pirate Day so if you haven't dropped at least one ''avast ye'' or ''Arrrrgggh'' the I suggest you get on it or forever be condemned to Davy Jones' locker. I would like now to share with you a little ditty I was taught as a small child:

''Frigging in the rigging,

Frigging in the rigging,

Frigging in the rigging,

Cuz theres' fuck all else to do.''

Post No. 4

The hand that rocks the cradle rules the world.

Post no.3

Oh! The things I have eaten! :

1. Six bites of the good bit of a burned beyond recognition pizza. Steve Irwin was on television trying to kiss the most poisonous snake in the world, the pizza in the oven might as well have been 1000acres of rainforest destruction ie: it was there, happening, but there was literally nothing I felt I could do about it.
2. Half a decent pizza that I made once Steve Irwin was over, and the infinitely moronic show Friends had begun.
3. 2 apples red & crunchy.
4. 3 unsalted pistachio nuts.

Today, let us think about uniformity. Having read cover-to-cover the Sunday Times 'Style' magazine and swung wildly between two predominant states of mind, the first being ''£8,500 for a dress! ha! let the lowest common denominators have their mink and their Balenciaga and their saville row tailoring! Let them revel in their expensive cloths, their compensation for living out an empty existence and having dishevelled souls brought on by their meaningless marriages to corporate gigolos. Let their prozac-glazed eyes rest upon a desirable shroud and let them have their only path to pleasure be the path that is paved with gold, not lilac and wysteria, things that only we who are priveliged enough to be poor can see the true value and beauty of! These women who delight in such frippery may wear cloth embroidered with such plants of aesthetic wonder but it is guaranteed that upon coming across even the most awesome lilac tree, the only reason they should be compelled to touch and smell would be if they were in the company of a man who would find it charming that she should do so. Her senses dulled by excessive wealth (and prozac lest we forget) would be incapable of savouring with the passion required, the noxious, sweet and intoxicating aroma, her mind wandering elsewhere perhaps along the lines of ''this would make a great chanel no.6! I shall endeavour to suggest it to my Vuitton marketing friend of a friend of a friend!'', and the second being ''damn it would be great to have loads of cash.'' Like some sort of schizophrenic fashion-pendulum. It makes me very cross that I am filled with such conflict, having been conditioned all at once by aggressive marketing strategies and my anarchic Mother. (Who is coming up a lot as a result of our having made contact following two years without.)

Imagine these women stripped of their status-symbolising outfits. The world would be filled with raw vulnerable women, wandering disconsolately with no power-stilletoes with which to fend(i) off the truth behind their hideous facades. We, the poor, would come to their aid and show them what it is to take pleasure from simplicity and help the tragic figures recognise the real jewels that are available to them on a daily basis. The world eventually would be full of empathy, respect for one anothers' respect for pure pleasure seeking. The men, minus trophy-wife material would be forced to seek real emotion. Who cares about them though, really? Oh the pity I feel for these women spending £8,500 on Balenciaga clothing. Those poor poor poor poor women. And nobody is helping them! The fashion editors ARE in this category! Suckers.

I don't know whats come over me. It must be because I'm listening to Nas.

N.B the models' face in the accompanying photograph. There is a reason models do not, as a rule, smile. It is because they, and everybody else in the industry knows the sinister motives behind what they are doing. They are preying on the disadvantaged of society, the weak. They are, without a doubt, the worst kind of bullys.

Post no.2

My fuschia is bleak.

Post no.1

Winter is on the doorstep.
I hope everybody has good boots and hats.
When I get my new red lace-up boots on Wednesday, I'm going outside for a long walk to make friends with them. They remind me of several pairs of boots my mother used to have, one pair in particular, black leather lace-up boots that she loved to get me to undo when she got in from work. My new boots are a combination of her black leather boots combined with her red chuck taylors.