Street life on 110th street.

Pam Grier is how I wish to look now and act - like one "mutha fucker" - hopefully forever. Once this relaxer grows out I might be a little closer.

it's gay, get over it?

Yesterday, after finally awaking from an alcohol induced coma, I went up to Shoreditch to visit a few friends and continue the abuse of my liver for at least a couple of hours. I managed to slink back home at a reasonable hour and see the amount of shit lying around my room in the fading light of day, but instead of cleaning anything up I thought I'd go through every TV channel on my telewest continously until I found something worth watching. This all went on till around midnight when the BBC decided to show a Bette Midler spectacular; a camp afair full of spotligts, execessive facial expressions and hand gestures called, "Isn't she Great?". It's a film based on the life of Jacqueline Susanne - the queen of pulp fiction, of 'Valley of the dolls' fame. But that's not important the most important part was this pink wiggle dress she wore towards the beginning of the film. It was a shade of bubblegum pink with a sheer neckline and a couple of decorative flowers, that part paticularly made me swoon; I started to get butterflies, felt my body temperature rise and started spasming each time I drew closer to that screen, I couldn't take my eyes of it. I sat there for 10 minutes in a trance, like the times when I'd fantasize that pharrell williams decided to move to London, live next door to me and drop his producing to write a song for how beautiful his world is now that i'm a part of it - alas I think in both cases the love is unrequited. But I won't stop, like an all-too-eager sperm i'll carry on travelling on in the hope I reach the all time climax of finding that dress and wearing it, behold my second conception as a 50s, camp goddess! It really is the symphony of the human anatomy, it has to be mine!

Anyway, I'm done.