the revolution is my boyfriend

get rich or die sucking

what the what is this? fi’ty cent made a film about his life and NO ONE TOLD ME ABOUT THIS?!>? thank YOU channel film 4, for showing me the way. wow, this film is boring. it’s almost as boring as fi’ty’s stooopid tracks about getting shot in the face and how you haven’t been shot in the face and how you don’t know what it’s like to get shot in the face.

shut the fuck up, you whiny bitch! like i give a rotting shit about your broke ass face.

“i’m in it for the money”
“i didn’t know why i wanted a gun but i got one anyway”
“i had to concentrate on my dream of being a rapper”
“after three weeks, i quit being a rapper and went back to selling coke”
“you see this? this is like a bitch. and you fuck a bitch”

yaaaaaawn. that’s some classy dialogue. this is some BULLshit. try living in gaza for a week, dumb motherfucker. oh and this picture? not stretched out. he actually looks like this.

fatties on the march

so bob wants tube-megeddon updates. so bob gets tube-megeddon updates.

needless to say, i won’t be blogging about my current job(s) on this blog…a lesson learned. for all you nosy people out there, suffice to say that i’m meant to be doing some part-time freelance analyst work for a friend so to fill in the income/day gap, before our trip to spain, i applied for a bunch of part-time office jobs. the office job came first and here i am. everyone seems very nice, harmless and it’s an easy walk from home. enough said.

of course, this means that tube-megeddon hasn’t been effecting me too much. it’s hysterical how crazy people get when their tube doesn’t work – the same tube that everyone spends hours bitching over when it does. but if any moron had bothered to watch bbc breakfast, they’d have known that the northern and jubilee lines were working fine (different union) albeit with some delays. surely that will cut down any journey time by some. but the people be freaking out. transport for london claimed to have put extra buses on the roads for the tube strike duration but where be those buses? i saw no buses. i actually saw LESS buses than usual and those that did come slumping by were so packed with people that they started to write “HELP ME” with their noses on the glass. probably.

idiots. holy lord, nothing works in this town. so yesterday i decided that life was too precious to be spending it on a hell-bound bus and therefore opted to walk to dinner instead. an hour and change later, i had made my journey from camden to edgware road for the fine arab eats. the eats be fine indeed. the mood on the dusty london streets be foul. like a scene out of the old testament, people were walking in packs, making a mad exodus out of the city on their commute home. i fully expected to see a flock of sheep coming down baker street. instead, i witnessed road rage on an unprecedented level. if you will, a new kind of mental, with people smashing down on their toyota horns with their tired faces, making sharp turns into cyclists, screaming at pedestrians for moving faster than a fiat hatchback.

what’s the problem, sausage-roll eating fatties? you had to walk something extra on your way to work today? just chill the fuck out. so what if you get into work two hours late? i’m sure the filthy wheels of capitalism will turn without your monkey grease. walking around london is so much more enjoyable anyway and things are always changing. except how nothing works. damnit.

a german boy we studed arabic with was having dinner with us yesterday. when we asked nicolas if he was looking forward to moving back to munich, he responded with an immediate, “yes! london has so many fantastic things but it costs too much to live here for such a poor standard of living. you have to be rich in order to enjoy life. it’s not worth it.”

HEAR THAT? LONDON – YOU’RE NOT WORTH IT, MATE.

no, really

HE’S NOT IN NEW YORK!

whaddya mean he's not in new york??!

ok, i’m slow, i know. but i only just realised this right this second. and it scared the moving shit out of me:

if conan o’brien is the new host of the tonight show, that means he’s not in new york.

YOU READING THIS?! HE’S NOT IN NEW YORK!

HE’S
IN
LOS
ANGELES!

oh my fucking god. i actually stopped what i was doing when i suddenly clocked that right now. i mean, apart from the obvious war criminality of the act (putting a near-albino man in that permanent sun-drenched climate), is such a reality even in possible? can the conan we know even exist in hollywood?! i can actually feel my heart palpitating with anxiety.

and what about me now? if conan’s not there, what’s the point of trying to move to new york?! oh, i feel so lost. my legs feel weak. can they get tina fey to host the late show? suck on that, jimmy fallon. it would be like weekend update…but for real.

tourists - you're dead

goddamned tourists! every fucking weekend i am surrounded by them, in my face up to my sinuses! with their plastic trousers, booming voices screaming out their itineraries and ill-matched chino-polo shirt combinations. disgusting.

why do i have to rearrange MY life to fit THEIR idiotic needs! YOU’RE the one vacation which means YOU’RE the one with all the damn time on your hands. the rest of us have places to be at a certain time. camden town becomes a cesspool every weekend, full of slack-jawed morons of the most vile kind. on saturday afternoons, when the mustard i.q. must be highest, you cannot take the escalator down onto the platform, as if the scum can’t handle the concept of people walking in opposite directions. instead, you are forced to walk down the hundreds of steps in a tight, circular emergency stairway, the dizzying descent into the bowels of transport hell.

but on sunday, the locals are made to suffer a step further when the entrance to the camden town station is CLOSED. CLOSED! you need to get somewhere? you can FUCK OFF. so there we were, mark and i, trying to walk down camden high street in the sweltering heat to the next closest station. i say “trying to” as people shuffle their feet s-l-o-w-l-y down the pavement, taking in their daily constitutional. you wanna walk? go to the damn park! shuffling your feet isn’t walking, fucking moron! it’s halfway to being a parapalegic! oh, and the northern line splinters after camden town so if you need to get onto the other branch (as we did), you can’t until reaching an entirely different station where you can walk down many more passages, taking escalators up and down the 40+ degree underground hell walk. a journey that would normally take 5 minutes has now swelled to 20. FUCKING TOURISTS!