Figure 1. Screw Time. We're Britain. We make time our bitch.
The clocks have changed.
There are no words.
There are no words to express my confusion and trauma at such an event. Time is now lying to me. This is the most stoopid thing the Brits could have come up with. I mean really! This place doesn’t do much (Susan Boyle and Wagner off the X-factor are exceptions to this) wrong, but damn, they got it so so wrong this time. They can colonise the entire globe, but that gives them no right to screw up the concept of time. So time has moved back an hour… I dreamt I missed everything and was subsequently fired from my postal duties at my awesome company. My electrical equipment all self-adjusted [creepy. I know.] so I awoke at the CORRECT version of 9am and all my electrics said 8am. BUT, the clock said 9am. One word: mindfuck. Then it got dark at 16h30. But this would be normal time – 17h30, instead, we changed the bloody clocks so it actually is getting dark earlier. I just can’t get it. I’m gonna need counseling for trauma as a result of this!
Figure 2. Juanita the lesbian-stripper-chilean-miner costume didn't come out this year, but Captain Awesome did!
This weekend was Halloween. And boy-oh-girl, did the devil come out to play. And by out, I didn’t just step out of the closet in the most fabulous attire I could find, no, I broke down the doors and flamed my way all over London. I shook my lettuce, threw myself on questionably straight landed gentry, stole road-construction equipment and had unplanned walking tours of London city.
To start with, we hit up Goldfish at a concert on Friday night. I have watched them rock out SA on an almost weekly basis. But this concert was mind-blowing. We were in a concrete cavern. Thick, freshly painted concrete walls filled to well-over the legal persons capacity. A light show that had us tripping like hippies at a trance party without the drugs! Not to mention the music which can only be described as Berlin-Rave and was topped of with eastern-European bouncers who spoke minimal English... It.was.AWESOME! And half the concert audience was Saffa. So not only were the well-built jocks and boets from SA throwing their testosterone all over the club, but the waspish, tall, rosey cheeked, wavy haired british gents were there too. The bar was 5 people deep, and being the slimey little fishy I am, I weaseled my way into a uncomfortably tight spot in amongst a group of jocks whilst I waited for my two “Double vodka and cranberries, but spare the cranberry dahling!”. I didn’t need to pay for any form of inappropriate groin thrusting as I was getting my full dose as the mentally-not-so-clever jocks kept pushing up against me. So I just happily smiled and thought: “shame, steroids really do shrink your penis…”. As the vodkas flowed like water, my inner-klepto raged. Having been caged for so long, my itchy little fingers began to wander… I managed to table-bar 2 half-full brandy and cokes off a table near-by and the stage list and the red bull off the light technician when he turned around. As always, I looked innocent and wide-eyed when accused and stuck to my rule: Deny, falsify and re-accuse. It worked. I escaped! BAM. My partner in crime stole suckers from the bathroom, so it wasn’t just me…. Haha. Oh, and to start, they full body search you at the door (I know, free groping at the door – it was like being at a strip club!), not for cocaine, heroin, alchohol, crystal meth, your fully loaded glock… no, they strip-searched you for – wait for it – chewing gum! Luckily, we smuggled ours into the venue in my partner in crime’s bra. One always needs chewing gum. You never know when you will have to SURPRISE a spamoni!
Following our debaucherous concert, we stumbled our way up to Shoreditch where we slid left, right and centre with all the “Rah-Rah, my daddy gave me a range rover in white for my birthday, but I wanted a black one, so he gave me a pony to apologise” types. We ended up having a mass schmodel photo shoot which, use this a fore-warning for your own lives, is never a good idea whilst hammered. I look like a wasted chipmunk in most of the photos. Haha.
Figure 3. You heard him. This guy looks legit.
I’ve got my BAM back. So I have a blind-date on Tuesday night. I’m wingmanning for a friend who like his BF who is a girl. So, I’m amped. The guy is uber hott. Do I know what to wear. NO! Is this stressing me out…? YES! I have to go straight from work, so I can’t even rock the uber trendy clothing from home. I’m gonna have to pull something miraculous. And, I’ll have to put my face on in the work bathrooms, heaven forbid some director walks in while I am applying my face in the mirror… Will this be sucsexful? I sure do hope so! I am DTF. ß Google it. I’m not worried he will like me because I’ve got my BAM on! Plus, he’s uber hott and has such a hott name. Yeah, I have facecreeped him already. And I’m a totally trophy-wife. Oooo, and in other news, I signed up for this dating webiste thing and put all my zexy pictures up. But, as with the one I did for jest at varsity, it does worry me about the older man-boy love going on. Already, I have had dating/sex requests from 63 yr old men. Shame on you! Don’t you have grandchildren to bake cupcakes for?? Disgusting. But some hott 32 yr old management consultant [KA-CHING!] who is tall, dark and (vaguely) respectable wants to go on a date. As long as there is free drugs alcohol candy I’m in. As they say, you gotta risk it for a chocolate biscuit. Well, if I wanna get to husBANK number 3 by 30, I better start risking it for the whole fucking chocolate factory! Besides, we all know I’m easier than a tranny at a pride parade… so, he had me at hello! Dating 2 people in one week, yup, this little goldfish is starting to swim in the big bad London ocean. And once I start playing the game, all rules are out the window – I’m a Killer Queen!
Figure 4. When in doubt/the weather is bad/the gingers attempt world domination – then do as it says
Now, for the only complaint I have at this point: If another Brit bitches about the weather, I will stab them in the face with my pen. I have never met such a bunch of pansies. It is barely cold, in fact, for me, I adore this weather! Yet everyday, they complain about it… shuuuuutuuuuuup about the weather and turn the heaters off for the love of all things holy!
BAM! It’s about to get hott in here!
PS: I LOVE THIS PLACE! I constantly feel alive and electric. It is like there is a current of awesome energy that I am plugged into everyday. I am happy and peaceful. And the people here are fun!
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