15/05/08
So much pleasure draws me like I never saw. -
Categories: When approached by a teenager with his top of exposing his pale skin an badly done home tattooes whilst his ratty looking friend in ill fitting trackie bottoms lurks nearby I feel a it intimidated, moreso when the topless youth is carrying what appears to be a petrol can, especially when he seems to think that the most appropriate way of opening a conversation is by going in loud so as not to appear intimidatng.
"Have either of you got a light?" He says looking at me and my girlfriend. I look at him and the ratty friend to check that they're not showing signs of this being a trap, it doesn't look like it. I look down at the can of petrol in his hand. I pause and consider the outcome of this request, knowing that I do have a light.
Weighing up the odds I say "Sure." (Like a Goth to a flame)and poduce it from my pocket. the ratty friend starts shouting and calling him a "Fucking cock" before taking the can off him I light his cigarettte and he hands me back the lighter "ta love." he walks off and as we carry on my girlfriend and I can hear him in the distance arguing with his friend asking him to give him back the can of petrol.
Maybe next time.
I found out what happened with my keys, in the middle of the night my ace flat mate Amber's boyfriend Bob wandered through to the kitchen and saw them, thinking they were Amber's he took them through to her room.
I'm not a secret mental drunk after all. All this came too late in the day for me to do anything about it though, I'd handed my last little bits of work after saying aquick hello to the proffessor who was sat outside the main office, it would appear getting stoned in the sunshine. Walking further round Crewe that afternoon my girlfriend and I got stared at by pretty much every passing driver, passenger and pedestrian. But like in Washington when the kid leaned over the balcony and incredulously shouted out "them two are holding hands! It's like they're poofs or something!" before pausing to think and concluding "Lady-poofs?" with a tone of unbridalled confusion in his voice.
When we finally got back to the flat to make food, my not so ace flatmate Victoria, (who I had a stand-up knock down row with a week or so ago about her opening my mail, her argument "you shouldn't take this so seriously." my argument "Stop opening my mail." Her reply "you're over reacting" my reply "Don't open my mail." Her reply "I have seen two of my brothers killed in front of me by soldiers and I left my child in Namibia to come here." My argument. "don't open my post.") was in the lounge braiding her friend's hair.
We decided to head back to Manchester, but first I got a call from a friend who's going to hospital for the same surgery as I had, she was asking a few questionsso I told her everything truthfully, whilst my girlfriend alternatedly winced and mouthed "don't tell her that you'll scare her." after an hour or so I think I'd covered all the questions. and the call ended, it was time to start thinking about going, then my mum called. I told her I'd just been talking my friend through what she can expect from her gender reassignment surgery, and my mum said "did you tell her she'll need a mum? does she have a mum?" I said "I think so." She said, "tell her if she doesn't I'll do it."
"Ok I will do."
"I'll be better at it this time." She said.
"I Don't see how, you were perfect at it last time." I said.
We chatted for ages and then the Mrs and myself jumped in the car and started driving to Manchester. I started thinking of all the stuff my mum had done for me, and how she was there for me when I was in hospital, and before, how she'd helped me in and out of the bath for weeks on end, how she'd helped with some of the most embarrassing things I'd ever been through and all the times I'd not been as good to her as I should have.
I cried a bit, and my girlfriend told me to pull over for a bit.
there was a ball of tension in my stomach as we headed back to her flat, which only got worse as we got to Manchester City Centre. the streets were flooded with Rangers fans and in the parlance of the Kriss Kristopherson movie Convoy there were several "bears in the air", along with a number of meat waggons, sirens blaring all heading down Great Ancoats street to were it looked like they'd tried to loot JD Sports.
The streets were teaming with idiots draped in Union Flags stepping in front of my fast moving car./ I thought ot Bill Hicks suggestion "just speed up and switch your windscreen wipers on."
I swerved a number of times to get past various rangers fans and finally made it to the flat, as I held the fob up to the security lock the Mrs said "Are you Ok?" "no." was all I could answer. as we got down to 73, my space. I reversed in and had to open the door. I was nearly sick. I hate driving a little bit more every day. in between worrying about getting speeding tickets (even though I don't speed, and only do 56 on the motorway", the cost of fuel, and the fact my car will probably break down soon, I can't deal with that sort of situation.
It took a while but I calmed down, and teh evening was salvaged by dying my hair black again.
within seconds I suddenly felt a lot better. I love my black hair, I'm never trying to grow it out again.
anyway time to go, but until tomorrow I love you all.
BB xXx
it'd been a bit stressful and we were both tired
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