Friday, 26 June 2009
Electric Eyes Are Everyhwere...
Yesterday really sucked, it was almost as if I was not reading the script or something, fucking the future if you will. First off I managed to somehow lose £20 (always a kick in the bollocks) by not taking my money OUT of the fucking ATM outside Tesco on Well Street. It was as if I blacked out for like 20 seconds and when I returned there was only the deserted advice slip, swinging lamely in the light breeze. I can remember putting in my PIN etc. and then I was next to my bike putting my card back in wallet sans cash. Pissed off and agitated, I went home and cooked the shit up I'd just bought and while I was on the fone to the bank to see if I wasn't a complete dickhead, I burned the whole pot of rice that was cooking to accompany my chicken in black bean sauce. I walked into the kitchen thinking my whole fucking culinary workshop had engulfed itself in flames, luckily it hadn't. It was one of those evenings where everything was gonna go wrong, so I thought it best to just stay in and stay out of trouble. I had downloaded some movies so I went upstairs and attempted to watch them (Tron and Gus Van Sant's To Die For, I am really running out of movies, yes), but both required passwords. And my internet was down so not only could I not get the fucking passwords for these two cinematic orgasms but I couldn't even go online and watch some fucking South Park.
Fuck it, time to get high. Had a bong of some 'sharks breath' (seriously guys, these names are retarded), felt real good man. Then, the fucking glazed cherry on my shit-covered-in-cum sundae of an evening; I get a message saying Michael Jackson just died. What. The. Fuck. And I didn't even have the internet to find out if it was actually for real. Well, it was, well done BlackBerry. It was as if all the evenings retardedness had culminated in the death of the King of Pop. Fuck. This is the kind of shit that started Michael Douglas off in Falling Down.
It was an odd mix of feelings really, I mean I fucking LOVED the first three MJ albums as a young Rockwellian but I dunno, what was the last thing he did really? I mean, aside from turning up dressed like Captain Crunch to court on charges of pederasty. Not much really. Did you buy a ticket to his London o2 shows? Of course you didn't. Did you even think 'oh fuck, all the tickets are sold out, man, I gotta get some on eBay'? Nope. The reason? Well, for me anyway it was because Michael Jackson was already dead in a way. I mean guy used to be BLACK. Michael Jackson was black and then he was white. I'm sorry, but all the plastic surgery shit was pretty fucking weird, yes, but changing your ethnic appearance?!? That is beyond fucked up. I think I was pretending it wasn't him all along so his passing is a little easier indeed. Still, had the shows been amazing then I guess it would've sucked to not have a ticket but I guess now we'll never know.
Rest in peace Mike, you deserve it. By the way, in case it passed you by, Farrah Fawcett died yesterday too...
Labels:
death,
michael jackson,
thumbs down,
thumbs up
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1 comment:
When you run out of movies it's always good to watch the whole OZ series. Watching it from the first episode through is the only way to do it. I spent about a month coming home from working and wasting the whole watching Oz, bong in hand.
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