For some reason, I've found myself making exclamations in a weird Bob Dylan-esque whiny singing voice. I've found myself living in a Bollywood musical - without the Bangra, the bling and the dancing. Actually, it's nothing like a Bollywood film, it's just me being a twat.
People at shopping centres are ignorant fuckers. They walk along; 2, 3 or 4 abreast and they barge straight into me and shove me out of the way. Bastards. I wonder if it has anything to do with me being a 2 year old gypsy child.
Anyway, if you're the type of person who walks along in shopping centres and expects everybody to get out of your way, you're a complete tosser and the whole world wants you dead! Well, it'd be nice if you showed a bit of common courtesy. So think on and look sharp!
Having had a look at the postcards at the Postsecret site, I think I might start a service like that for readers of this blog (all 2 of 'em) to post any secrets they'd like to get off their chests. All posts will be treated in the strictest confidence and nobody will laugh at anybody. Of course, such a setup needs to be monitored by a suitable person who has no skeletons in their closets. So it's only fitting and right that I should volunteer my services for that role.
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