❤ If someone is wearing a JLS hoody in East London are they trying to be ironic or cool?
Answer: I can't decide.
Whilst I thoroughly enjoyed my jumbling in deepest East last week I can't help but feel that most of the people there were erring on the side of cunty. There was the man with the stupid hair who had a pair of shoes each shoe of which was a different colour. I imagine what went on was the buying of the same pair of shoes in different colours. Oh you're so kooky with your premeditated buying of shoes. Then there were the plethora of girls who looked like they were dressed in sacks. 80s sacks admittedly but sacks none the less. It was agreed by all present (who I have no doubt I will grow old with in an old people's home blaming the fact we have colostomy bags on the fact that we all make each other laugh too much) that sometimes looking thing should be put over looking crazy. On the upside I purchased some fine aprons that may yet be turned in to tops.
There appears to be a worrying occurrence most Saturdays. What is this? I go out and get monumentally spacfaced. I mean starting mid afternoon, attempting to put a cap on it at 8 and stumbling in around midnight with kebabs on my mind but settling for toast (surely the food of drunk kings?). Whilst I thoroughly enjoy these nights out my bank balance does not. Nor does my brain. And the little nerve endings in it. However, it seems to be an ongoing thing to the point where I announced last week that I wouldn't be able to make the 23rd because I was too busy Godmothering it up in the Motherland. Talk about floodgates - then another of our number volunteered that she wouldn't be able to make the 9th. Then another questioned the 16th. I won't lie there was a palpable sense of despair around the table. Would we cope without some of the founding members missing? I won't lie. We'll probably all be too fucked to notice.
Talking of spacfaced - woke up in Bedford at 5am on Saturday morning. I've really missed falling asleep on the train after a night out. No really. One could say it is the sign of a good night out (which it was). Others could say that it is a sign that you get up too early for work. Which would be further evidenced by not getting up til 3pm. Judge me not until you have walked a mile in my shoes. Or my commute. Or something.
Had intentions of doing lots of housework and stuff today. Have mainly sat in front of the internets reading blogs and thinking about the sort of life I want. Have decided that it's all well and good to want nice things but only to want them if it's because you want them. Not because someone else has them or you feel obliged to have a certain aspiration. Which means that it is perfectly okay for me to want this AND OH MY FUCKING GOD IT IS IN THE SALE. Is it wrong to buy things and put them in the garage for when the time comes that I have more than one room to call my own? All I will say is this. Think of the shadows it will cast.