mr-onion's Diaryland Diary

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Chronicles of Idjit

I'm still reeling from jet lag and the endless chattering of the 82 yr old OAP sat next to me for our 107 hr flight home....but I will try to remember exactly how my holiday went.

Before leaving work for the airport, I tried to assemble all my bits into something that looked edgy but not trying too hard: black trousers and a tartan poncho. After a 9 hour flight I looked like a used Kleenex with a ciggie stubbed out on it.

Arrived at 3:00pm at Heathrow with Fowler waiting anxiously for me at Arrivals. He immediately suggested we put a dent in England's liquor supply and start drinking at the airport. It was like we'd seen eachother only last week - weeeee! - the gossip was like Hurricane Ivan - "he sued John? how much did he get? She's got a mullet? and she's not a lesbian? never!"

Fowler now has a blonde shrub of hair growing on the crown of his head and he hasn't aged a bit. And he is dating a 22 year old. I can't begin to list the tendon injuries he's probably gotten in bed since hooking up with that flexible wisp of a boy.

A few pints later I had a fevered phone call with JS, him reminding us not to get too bladdered at the airport because we still had to drag my luggage into Farrindgon where I was staying.

So we dragged my 70's diarrhea vinyl suitcases into the Tube station and legged it over to Farringdon. That bastard JS joined us at the pub shortly to recount the list of celebs he's worked with/waved at lately in his swanky movie job. Last time we gossipmongered together he was claiming to be knocked up with Jude Law's child, so I'm never sure what's real.

JS is still a vision of dodgy terrorist facial hair in a stripey jumper. I want to steal his jetsetting, A-list lifestyle.

I even got what I drunkenly interpreted to be admiring looks from men when I stepped up to the bar to order. It was probably my tit hanging out my poncho, but I was flattered anyway.

We never did make it to the Scintilla gig at the Vauxhall Tavern, and apparently some people showed up to see me (i.e. remind me that I owe them money, blame me for passing on gossip about them, ask me to stop ringing them).

12:35 p.m. - 2004-09-14

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

previous - next

latest entry

about me

archives

notes

DiaryLand

contact

random entry

other diaries:

asper-gen
bluenadia6
stayinschool
unapologetic
sirawesome
bingoguy
chickpea981
fadein
mr-sparkles
antistar-
uberfrau
uptowndream
xanthium
coppersky
djjohns3
heckafresh
caraxus
von-esper
getbent-die