Today I've been so busy with my own shit, and frankly too lazy to type anything of entertainment, that I've decided to leave it to my sexually overactive cousin Pete (By overactive I mean he acts as though he has sex a little too much but not actually ever with any women) to write the whole thing. He's proven himself to be a bit of a genius lately, despite having passed all his exams. Take it away Pete...

head

ahh...I attended an Abbey National Corporate Cocksucking Conference today at the Kensington Hilton and sat next to this gorgeous Hanna bird...
I soo wanted to stroke her. My head is splattered. I wanna get to know London more, get to know a dozen cultures and languages; I've been in love with languages for ages and have recently fallen in love with (my friend and his) culture and cultures in general. I wanna be a UN ambassador and mediate conflicts between places like Iran and Belfast, speaking rapid Irish to the bloke on my right and then turning head to Farsi to the bloke on my left and explaining to them that they both have a great clubbing scene and that is perhaps something that they could use as common ground and then save the world from the brink of war. And then donate a few years' income to helping end third world debt. Corporations are great, sometimes; today's Lessons in Head were great, cos instead of being wired up to Head Office's Indoctrination machine, we played games and role plays and did acting and shit and all 70 of us white menopausal women (39-61 years of age, average 2 children, 1.5 marriages, 2.3 homes, 2 mortgages, 3 savings accounts) danced to 'Reach' by S Club in the name of the holy Abbey National. It was great. The only thing I don't understand is how corporations can sit there drinking espresso coffee, the beans of which were handpicked by sexually abused slaves in Peru and Colombia, wearing leather suedes (me too) and fur coats (made from the real skin of tortured animals), discussing how to improve customer service so as to raise profits by the target 6.7% whilst millions of third-world citizens are worried about where their next fucking meal/cup of drinking water is coming from ro whether some fucknut is gonna rape them because he, through the misguidance of voodoo doctors, is under the impression that raping a young virgin female will cure him of HIV. Deepa, my beloved Malaysian sister says that if we all gave 10% of our earnings to help third world poverty, there would be none in several years' time. At this scabby rate, it's gonna take longer than it does for George Bush to fucking tell the time in a fucking watchmaker's. What the fuck am I gonna DO?
I have all this shit inside my head which has recently begun to grow even more exponentially (?) than usual. Not gonna waste your time shitting it all out, cos I need to sleep too, actually, but rush hour culture? Culturally diverse London/cultural integration/international social integration/environmental awareness/animal rights/human rights. Help! There's about 80 years left in my life, if I lay off the fags, weed, booze and get (more) sex (any at all will do nicely)...can it be done? Not sure, actually, no way, on my own, that's dumb, but what can I start/catalyse/what exisiting things can I boost/kickstart that will maybe make this dream (?) feasible?

peace
and love

I did offer him the chance to air his own opinion in the personals section and get me back for all the public abuse he has got from me over the last 2 weeks but he declined so I decided to do it myself...

Personals

Andy - You're a fucking cunt! Stop patronising me, you fucking bastard, actin like you're my fucking big brother or somethin you cock! Don't you think I've got enough of an inferiority complex because of my tiny manhood and the fact that I still haven't got laid yet!? Stop fucking taking the piss out of me just cos I'm going through puberty and hence have to copiously masturbate all the time and talk about girls - I bet you don't even know what it's like. cunt.

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