Common People.

She's in touch with her high school sweetheart

It's all going swimmingly...

"...He said next year he's going to be in The Gentleman's Club."- A

"Oh whats one of them?" said I

"I dunno. Apparently Cambridge told him they wanted someone common and he's from Manchester so they decided to have him in the Club." said A

and then I had doubts it could ever happen.

He's a straight A Cambridge student with a 'posh' accent and she is a pretty punk ass kid with a case of 'too much too young'.

West Side Story much?

On second thoughts I do quite fancy doing the finger clicking dance, whilst pulling some sharp, synchronised ballet moves.

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Banging.

v. banged, bang·ing, bangs
v.tr.
1. To strike heavily and often repeatedly; bump.
2. To close suddenly and loudly; slam.
3. To handle noisily or violently: banged the pots in the kitchen.
4. Vulgar Slang To have sexual intercourse with.

I was walking through Victoria Train Station when a group of Chavs passing me started shouting "Your well banging, you" "Oi oi you look really fine"

So I give them an apologetic look as to say 'Sorry mate, your barking up the wrong tree, I prefer my guys with a little tact' and then another look to say 'Pffft! I know. I'm crazy like that'

Last year I was walking through the Arndale Shopping centre and a scarily grotesque Chav stops in front of me and states "I'd give her a SIX Yeah a definate SIX OUT OF TEN" to which I die of embarrasment as everyone turns to stare at the mere Six, the girl short of FOUR who will sadly never make it with the Grotesque Chav. Shame.

I must at least be a SEVEN now that I am 'banging'

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Black-Holes for Souls.

So I start from the beginning

Two years ago a whole bunch of us went to see Eighties Matchbox B-Line Disaster when they came to Manchester, It was brilliant. There was an aftershow party with more local bands playing, cheap drinks etc etc. I saw a 'girl' she must have been about 28years old outside the venue, she was a Indie scene girl with a Lego haircut. I approached her and asked her politely where the aftershow was.

I will never forget her eyes, they were dead. Dark, flat, unflinching cold eyes, she treated me with cool indifference, I remember being shocked in the way she was talking to me. I felt sad because her attitude implied she followed bands quite alot and this is what she had been reduced to, it scared me so much I just wanted to get away from her. I never wanted to become like her. Indifferent. If the eyes were the windows to the soul hers would have been like looking down into endless dark water.

So

We went to Catch in Shoreditch last night, it started off fun, music was good and then a whole load of different people started coming through the door. Thats when I started to notice something rather peculiar, everytime I caught someone's eyes they had the same expression as the Indifferent Girl. Black-holes for souls. I started to get a bit freaked out. I'd ended up with people I'd sworn I never wanted to be like. These kids were EMPTY and life had done that to them. Maybe I was next.

At that point I missed my friends so much, we never cared for posers we gladly made fools of ourselves, we liked to express ourselves, we had fun. I sat tight for awhile and then tried to find a friend to say goodbye to. As I was making my way through the crowd the hollow eyed people purposefully stood in my way, I got claustrophobic so began physically pushing them away from me.

I just wanted to run and run and run and Run so fast it hurt to breathe.

I couldn't explain myself on the tube ride home,
so I just sat mute and reassured myself better.

I'm a punk, and even though I don't look it, I will always be a punk at heart. I will keep on feeling and expressing myself in the loudest possible manner, and I will keep my soul shining and sparkly for all to see thank you very much.

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I Miss Him...

...because of the memories He invokes

I'm so incredibly glad I was a gobby teenager, if I hadn't turned and talked to Him outside the Academy that day, I would have missed out on a memorable friendship which led to fantastical adventures we shared.

He's back in touch and all I want to do is hug his puny little body and shriek like an overexcited chimpanzee whilst pogoing madly like a maniac.

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The Family Meeting

My Dad is a really random guy, growing up he had some strange sayings

"Don't laugh too much you have to make up for it later in tears"

Now thats just some sinister Karma right there

"Never trust Ginger people, they have reasons to be angry"

W-What? how does that even make sense?

"Never lend, borrow or take anything off a person and you will always avoid fights and fallouts"

This priceless advice is just encouraging mean and tightfisted behaviour.

There was a lot more but I've forgotten them, everytime we were naughty we had a 'Family Meeting' all the kids biggest to smallest lined up against the couches and then when we were all present Dad said "Sit".

Then we knew someone had broken furniture, burnt the carpet, hurt a sibling etc. etc. "If you confess now it will save everyone else time" But we never did grass each other up, it was just The Code. To be a Grass would cast you an outsider of the clan, word would spread and immunity would be exempt until you proved your loyalty usually in the form of slavery.

Thats when the philosophy would spew out, like a lecture from hell, this would last for hours (seriously!) until we all wilted and Mam picked up the smallest and led them away feigning an excuse.

This was no use for me, I was the fourth eldest and the most patient, so if it was me in the wrong The Philosophy Lecture could last all night, until finally...

..."It was Me!"

I'd crack.

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Hell Now Recruiting

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_y3z8bZtyvo

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"But Lynette doesn't Die."

Entrance
tr.v. en·tranced, en·tranc·ing, en·tranc·es
1. To put into a trance.
2. To fill with delight, wonder, or enchantment: a child who was entranced by a fairy tale. See Synonyms charm, enrapture.

Today I learnt my area manager Lynette died on Tuesday.
This won't mean anything to anyone, unless you worked with her.
She was celebrating her 40th Birthday and crashed her car dying instantly, she didn't have children but she left behind a partner.

Lynette was a woman I admired, she had platinum blonde hair, was extremely tall and power dressed to the hilt. When she walked onto the shop floor she entranced, yes Entranced, customers into buying a whole outfit without breaking a sweat. She was charismatic, but unaware of the fact.

For the last year or so I have been leaving daily figures on her answerphone hoping she didn't pick up because when she chatted to you, she was Uber cheerfull, talking to her no matter how much you tried you always sounded depressed. Last week I transferred a grey dress out of the store for her uniform, I wonder if she wore it?

Morbid.

When my manager told me the first thing I said was "Lynette can't die, she doesn't do dying"
My sister daid "Your weird, everyone always dies around you, Freak."

The thing that makes me really sad is no-one will ever know what I mean and what I am trying to convey.

I just wish everyone would stop dying now, it is seriously desensitivising me.
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