I am ill. Like a silly little weed I cough and I blow my nose while the fashion week is flying past me. If had a pass Id be there ill or dead, no difference! But instead on the metro I cough into my hat looking shocked and disgraced at my own sickness. While I am actually choking on that irritating tickle at the back of the throat and going slightly smurf-esque in the face. I decide that I hate Madeleine and Concorde.

Lack of things to do is giving me deranged ideas of re-organising my itunes even more than they already are.

Ah but I lie, even though I am a weed I have not declined an offer of visiting a musician’s flat on the first settlement of Parisian life, the isle of Notre Dame.

There I sit (coughing) drinking freshly brewed coffee, listening to music whose composer is sitting opposite me. I get tough how to play chess. I feel slightly more intelligent. He plays a lullaby for me on his piano.

He wears vintage suits and matching ties, his collection of ties makes me ponder on a thought that he could be a serial strangler. He offers me a crep, i decline in caution of spoiling my good luck with the Frenchness of it all.

Perfect, I tick the box of meeting a real French romantic in a matter of 18 days! Lovely. 

Ps; A crystal Castles gig is swapped for Phil Collins. 



The jeans, the black jeans that I wanted ever since I saw them on a Danish model boy in March are now mine.

I buy a size smaller than ever, swallow the cost like a razer in my throat. Oh it hurts! And you know what else hurts-putting them on. I have this nightmare now that I will wake up and not fit into them, cold sweat down my back.

I make a decision to stretch them by sleeping in them, and also never washing them to prevent the likelihood of a shrinkage to barbie size.

Thank you oh Danish model boy, I wish you success in your good looking ways!

p.s this is the to be the lamest post, none as such will ever appear…promise!

A lesson in life

When talking to someone who may get you a job, the answer to their question of:

 what do you think about the boss? 
(Do not say:) he is boring, i dont like him.
 in broken french while looking innocent. Note for self, must learn more verbs and descriptive words

Irritated at the fact that I only slept for about 2 hours. There is no toothpaste, my head hurts and I cannot change the text colour of the blog. That annoys me even more, it just doesnt want to do it. 

Whats next

everything is explained, down to the finest details.

 When it comes to the beloved coffee machine, a friendly giant i recall from my childhood, all i get is ‘you know’

eeer news flash-no i dont know how to use a coffee machine.

My mother has managed to teach me every skill and lesson possibly required in life, but, never was i lucky enough to quench my first by making my own coffee machine beverage. already wasted 3 filters and tasted 5 coffees which looked white not only because of my inability but also due their fear of how i would next torture their blacky brown bean friends.

Tonight is my night off, i brew the machine without a filter in order to calm with a cup of green mint tea. boiled water comes out in a shade of dirty yellow as a call of revenge from the Arabia’s finest beans. They win i loose.

thanks to google for the picture, as i am not organised enough to take my own

oh and. 

i hate Gok. i watch gok and i listen to gok and i hate gok. and i cant stop watching gok
no gok-adding a black feathered boa will not make that shitty primark t-shirt look like a dior couture, and dont you encourage such actions in little teen girls. Why the hell should we believe that the quality of a £3 t-shirt is similar to that of, lets even say Joseph! It makes little teens settle for what they can get. life is not about that-its about striving for something, right Gok? oh no, you wouldnt care would you! Sigh
   *shake fist*
However i propose something else, something better me thinks. A show for men on how to dress! Think about it people, it can be like a total orgy of naked women, beer, hunting and footy…oh and style tips. Like old fashioned grooming and such! All of this while screaming fu***** c***s at a foreign cricket team. 
yea i see my vision coming to life, definitely
peace party people-go concur some airways or something

I hate waiting!!! Seriously, be it in a restaurant or for paint to dry oooor for a page to load-unacceptable!

must stop being so addicted to the internet, sometimes i encourage my lovely Mac to break, just so my eyes could get some sleep. Ive had no luck what so ever. 
My Late nights have given me a few interesting TV experiences, as I sit up and watch really shit movies on really shit channels that spend their year’s worth of marketing budget on a movie-any movie!
  So it goes something like this. it starts. i realise it looks shit. i wait patiently convinced that this shit MUST get better. it doesnt. i go to bed at 4. wake up at 9 to go to the bank, again, eyes blood shot and back on the crazy intake levels of smoothies and coffees.

England: South (not for long)

Lo-Fi-FNk’s heartache with a strong base makes me wanna dance, like alot. bumpp bummmp…BUMMP!

whaaaaaats thaaat?!?! yeaaah woooo-hooo, yeaaah woo-hooo, there’s something in the aiiiir……digitalism, is what it is, DUUUhh! Now work on making heartache into a hot remix. do IT, now! Before evil shimvel Mr im-a-shit-hot-dj-who-can-get-into-any-stupid-twat-girl’s-pants gets his mits on it and mixes it with some shit ibiza crap, until every stupid 18 year old private school girl screaming “ooomiiiiigaaawwwwwd CIIInnnndeeey! I LOOOOVE this tune!”

Anger management, yea i’know. like-now!

England: North Chronicals of cavegirl searching for an adaptor

..exactly! that is EXCATLY how I feel. Like one of the lucky few homosepians who first walked this ground, which must have been hard and perhaps even unwelcoming. Dont know why I am here, where I am going, what I am here for and where the Ipod adaptor is, dammit!

Wrapped in a dodgy poly-something blanket (homosepians were lucky to have escaped such horrors), no make-up, yesterday I wore some (at that point being at least a day old). I have gotten wet under the rain again and again anad again, which seems to come in bite size chunks similar to that of MTV1 adverts.

The situation has improved however, I have swithced from family guy (to be frank I laughed out loud to myself a few times) to a more socially acceptable World Fashion Channel.

Totally not appreciating the camera work for mens s/s’09… 3/4 of the time the camera concentrates on going slowly from shoes to the model’s sholders. Where as anyone with more brain cells than an omeba knows that all eyes are upon the pretty model’s face..mmmm tooo true. Buyers, press even the staff…yeaaah i caught you looking!

Perhaps family guy is more soul pleasing.


Tomorrow one is off again