Summer?

I just don't know how to start this, and I sure as fuck won't be bothered spellchecking when it's over, so sorry in advance. To begin with, let me tell you about last Thursday. I was supposed to be flying myself out to Amsterdam as I've done each year since the millennium, to shake off the horrors of the year and "get in touch" with myself, but, if you're a UK denizen then you'll know that last week some fucking idiot wanna-be amateur bombsmiths with a ridiculous fucking axe to grind had some other ideas. These "bombers" may or may not have even existed- I don't trust the news, I don't trust what I'm told on screen or in print, I never have, all I know is that some argument I have FUCK ALL to do with has gypped me out of a solid four days of blissful intoxicated partying... fuck, let me set the scene for you. I awoke at 0600 last Thursday and the first thing I see is these cunts on the left, telling me there's been some sort of "mild terror alert", dressing it up in their stupid fucking GMTV safe morning-friendly smile-talk while I'm thinking "ah Christ, delays then", so I set out, I get to the airport with with time to spare (a feat in itself, of which I was proud) to find fucking bedlam. Bedlam and Babylon. People lining up for hour after hour, British humanity in all it's glory, waiting it's turn, dreading the bad news. It was a massive disorganised funeral. Everyone knew they wern't getting where they going, but everyone was too damn British to make a fuss. A classic example of queuing at it's best. Right, bollocks, I'm not going to whinge about my missed holiday anymore because I'm bored of it, and at least I had one or two good nights fuelled out of sheer frustration and anger (hey, maybe it's not your thing, but if you're in Bristol and you're off your mash on ecstasy pipes and you've got nothing better to do, maybe you should enjoy the fifteen-floor superclub that is Oceana. My thanks go to Owen and Captain Crunch, whether they read this or not, for the textual and moral support).

Anyway.
No more moaning.

On to the positive. I've had a few driving lessons, which have been fun. I'm shit thus far, my clutch control is fucking awful and it's entirely my own fault, but at least I'm making up at last for leaving it this late. A big welcome to any newcomers who've posted comments recently, it doesn't go unnoticed. I appreciate any and all feedback, be it red, white, blue or black ; )

Marko
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