HOW VULGAR! But that's what I did. It took me TWO HOURS to get from suburbia to this certain dealer's "urbia". TWO HOURS of faffing around for a post office open enough to get MY OWN MONEY OUT. Faffing for the right bus and a route where someone had not been murdered leading to yards and yards of it cordoned off (like yesterday). Then finally about twenty minutes into my pacing about in an "obviously not waiting for the bus" way at this innercity stop da man turns up. He didn't seem to notice I palmed him off with short money. Then I was so agitated at missing the first bus home and then useless ones to places like John O'Groats and other areas I do not live I thought "oh bugger it", went into the public urinal-cum-phone box (without Big Ben views), poured out a bit of my cyder-and-Lucozade drink and made that into a yummy hit of gear that I jammed into my leg whilst having an imaginary conversation. I don't think anybody noticed and I don't know whether it was unfamiliar surroundings or what, but the drugs were rather good ...Anyway I'm back by my old house and procrastinating packing the very last. This is because I'm weary and weighed down with cooked chicken thighs and mushrooms and spring onions. My Mumzy bought me intellectual noodle nests (highly intellectual: bilingual instructions in Sumerian and Akkadian with Pi to 10,000 places...) and easy Chinese meals are calling.
My hamsters have got over the horror of being placed in the middle of a table for all to see, if only there were a collection of people to peer in and view them. Spherical had taken to glaring at me balefully then vanishing down a Trotters' Tube, her giant furry backside rumbling behind her ...
10 comments:
I'm sorry but I found your description of what you did in that phone box horrifying Gleds. You live so dangerously. :(
Someone told me that London was getting rid of the red phone booths! Say it ain't so.....
Oh and I thought being further away from your dealers might deter you somewhat.
Gleds, I like reading about the cooking and the hamsters but twinge at the thought of shooting up in a urinal type phone booth.
Uggg..too much information for me, Gledwood.
Jeez, Gleds. Were you that desperate? Think of all the bacteria...eewwww.
Baino, you'd be surprised the distances we would travel to see a dealer and the bullshit we're willing to put up with from them. Once the idea is in your head, nothing will stop you, you have to see it through or go mad.
Gleds, not quite the same but I've tooted in a phone booth with my pal. That wouldve looked really dodgy I'm surprised we didn't get done.
Obviously with tooting, you get that 'delightful' fishy smell (which used to make me heave), is it the same with injecting?
It is better to wait til you get home if you can help it. I hate public toilets and I'm super paranoid. Always carry deodourant spray with me to hide the smell. Have been kicked out of some places - very embarrassing.
Monday was torture with transport. The Victoria line was down so mayhem descended over London. Hope you managed to avoid that.
How's the writing?
Glad you like your new place. My mood is so influenced by my surroundings.
x2 bowls of sweet Kelloggs cornflakes with ice cold milk - Yummy.
take care & b careful
x Kelly
Have to wonder if the original writer of Dr. Who got the idea...
Sounds gross but you gotta do what you gotta do.
I have this fear that one day I'm going to visit and your blog will have gone silent... That stuff's going to kill you sooner or later.
Classy ;-)
Post a Comment