Airport

Not that you can really tell where a day starts when you haven't slept, but certainly, today started badly. Despite staying up all night and leaving the house in good time, crappy Kings Cross roadworks ensured I missed my plane, which flew off into the sky at 11:30 am. The next one with a free steat is at 6:30. I felt quite dreadful at that point, wandering around this giant drafty air hanger that is Gatwick Airport. BUT! There was a Starbucks, so I had one of those Caramel Mocohoca things I got into in New York, which sort of helped a bit. And Mary pointed out that it was sunny outside and I should find some grass, so I did. As it was, I found a pound, with great big fish in it, and a secluded spot in which to lounge about in my pants and read Private Eye and listen to my brilliant mixtape. And look at the giant fish. I was a bit scared of the fish. Oh my peoples, what a glorious day! I did lounge and sun and do NOTHING, which I haven't done in time. Missing that plane was the best thing I've done in ages. As it is, I haven't seen much sun at all, as I feel I should be making noises or answering emails or, like, Doing Stuff all the time. And I did sod all today, save watch fish, and stoats (well, stoat, but I haven't seen one of them in ages), and brush ants off of my glistening person.

I did that for a long time, but had to check in just. Gatwick is full of amazing breasts, with heads on top that smile at me. And I met some of my peoples in the crap record shop that doesn't have the Kano album in. There were these two little dudes and a girl all in Greenday shirts shouting "AKIRA THE DON OI! NAaaaaAH!" Which is Bashy's catchphrase, but still. Amazingly, one of them had downloaded the mixtape this morning and had it on his gayPod mini. They were off to Manchester, I think, which seems weird, it's only a few hours on the train isn't it? Anyway, big up you three.

Oh, I met a lovely old lady by a tree having a fag as well, and then her daughter. She was trying to set me up with her daughter. That was weird. Actually, I suppose isn't that weird, but still.

ANYWAY! I am going to run into the pub and have a swift one, and not miss my plane, innit. I'll write something of some substance later.

PEACE.

Oh! I nearly forgot. I went to the bogs earlier, this morning, and ,marvelled at the cleanliness. And then I returned to the same bogs a minute ago, and someone had written, in massive letters on the inside of the door:

WOT THE FUCK

YOU LOOKIN AT

SHITTY ASS

UR All

GAY

BASTARDS

He'd underlined BASTARDS. People kick ass.