mr-onion's Diaryland Diary

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Cool

I know lots of people who are cool, but that doesn't really make me cool. It doesn't seem contagious like the Ebola virus:

- Wayne has personally harassed Kylie Minogue by singing one of her own songs to her at a restaurant

- JS was invited to Sharon Stone's tree trimming party for Christmas

- V was invited round to dinner at Bjork's house and nicked one of her rings out of the medicine cabinet

- Michael has lectured Paula Yates on controlling her unruly children

- CF has been hit on by a Tory MP

- S has worked with Robert Downey Jr.

I on the other hand, spend most of my days in a tiny room watching other people drink coffee while I make up stories � you may have read some of the worst ones � not cool.

I've asked them before if coolness is something genetic or if I can somehow acquire cool for $5 or less. They looked at me dolefully and said that though most of 'em are born cool, some people grow cool through the years (like a Chia pet). So there is hope after all.

I've watched a few friends of mine prod around in mid-life crisis territory, convinced that they've missed out on something, searching for the coolness factor again.

I mean, after working their buttocks off for many years, I would think most people would say to themselves "I deserve to wear that velour track suit". But no, they spend hours trying to get the right shade of distressed denim and dying their hair to look like a homeless person.

3:57 p.m. - 2004-09-17

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