It’s a crazy life with all the bells and whistles of a Notting Hill Carnival in the rain. I’m so nebuna you’ll forgive my little yellow house. And blow, blow my house down don't you see the plastic? Everything like new.
Now you’ll forgive me won’t you but I’m repeating stuff, it’s a deja-vu that you brought into not realising it’s 2nd hand. Nevermind, I’ll tell you this off the cuff, life couldn’t be better (providing I run about with my fingers in my ears!) And who knows if the silver lining at the end of this week’s a Paribas hook that has me flapping on my back for my belly to be rubbed?
Haha oops I forgot my place didn’t I? I’m the sub in this reality minus the chilli sauce and toasted baguette. You want extra mustard? It’s been 14 years since I spoke to my mum. Where was I? Oh yeah devouring my mind of late in an attempt to rock up early to the finish line. Living debt free is shiny and powerdery. It’s a winter wonderland in the bitter-sweet London Spring. I have bounce in my step and a jitterbugs in my shoe (plus a penny, bit o’ cat litter, and a half used smoke). I’m pretty ugly on any stress levels, more fingers, more fingers.
I wax often don’t fret. Or scare me like a scene out of Raid 2! Oh dear lovely film director how you appeal to my sense of me with pre-film certification credits exclaiming, ’18 Contains extreme violence, blood, and gore.’ - And a happy as La1rry Spaceman!
anyway, this away I had no I.D so they sent me back home to stay. ‘Seriously? What part of me doesn’t look over 18?’ ‘We have to scan the barcodes for police’ Oh Orwell.
Loading comments...