Clouded
Yesterday, people of Blogland, was pink Saturday, which I had forgotten all about; that says rather a lot about my wish/inability to belong. Pink Saturday is when the million gays put on either their leather outfit, sailor’s suit and stick feathers either onto their head or up their arse, march for a while, then proceed to get drunk gaily together on Soho square -which is roughly the size of a Jacob’s cracker- til nightfall, then go to gay parties. There are two other pink Saturdays this summer in London, which confuses people. The march, which is free; then there is the Big Gay Out, which isn’t; then there is the Soho pride, which is a big mess but apparently the most fun of them all. So now you know.
Did I mention I had forgotten all about it?
I was busy sampling different kinds of absinthe around London Bridge with a tall blonde, then our minds obviously clouded, we said in perfect unison ‘pah, there won’t be anyone in Soho, they’re all in Hyde park for the live 8 thingy. Let’s buy some beer and have a quiet drink on Soho square, a bit like tramps’. No wonder that absinthe thing is notorious for making people crazy. Soon we were surrounded by leather outfits, sailors’ suits and all kinds of feathers; we stayed and watched and drank.
Then it turned out that there were past dates and friends and acquaintances on the Jacob’s cracker, as well as my lover in a wedding dress and some of her friends, and we all met up and I got gaily drunk and started talking to everybody and then it was nightfall and my tall blonde friend was hungry and since this was supposed her day she and I left to go in search of sustenance, and now my lover is extremely pissed off with me and I don’t know what to do.
Perhaps I should have forgotten all about pink Saturday properly, and none of this would have happened.
I suspect that today, people of blogland, will be Morose Sunday, and will chiefly be spent in bed with the cat.
That’s pretty much all I’ve got to say for myself.
Michel Simon dans un musée du sexe ?
4 years ago
7 comments:
Women!
If the Cat hasn't told you to go and sort it out then tell it from me that it needs to pull it's paw out and take some interest in who feeds it.
Unless it's a female Cat of course as they don't do the sorting out thing just the empathy thing.
right, that's it... i'm bringing you coffee and chocolate and girly porn.
A very public and huge apology for being a complete muppet, idiot, moron, imbecile, half-wit, cretin and last, and probably most, retard. Sorry. Again.
A slightly smaller apology for posting on your site. I shan't do it again.
B xx
wooo, go B!
Ahhhh! That`s sweet.
Greavsie - the cat is male and useless. Notice that I didn't link both parts of the sentence with 'therefore.' That would have been cheap.
Frogstar - oh, please do. All of it. Where do you get you porn?
B- aww....it's ok..
Jacqui- B would like you to know officially that she's not sweet. ( She is really but she has a reputation to uphold.)
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