poop
truth be told, i quite like xmas. in the middle of the winter you gather together your loved ones, eat better quality food, drink booze at stupid o’clock, and you get the opportunity to give people stuff they don’t know they want. Case in point, the best of the orange presents: the tank fascinator. take some black gauze and some black feathers. glue the aforementioned together so as to create one of those “tiny hat” things that goth womens like, apparently known as a “fascinator”. and as a centrepiece to said fascinator construct, spray matt black, and attach a tiger I 1:72 scale tank. teh win!!11!!11!!!!
the day itself was spent well enough with tim and jen and brad and james and sarah, bolstered by the presence of carl and heather and ian on boxing day. tim and i perpetrated many a great wurzels classic on the unsuspecting singstar and brad and carl defiled its many grindcore tracks – which came as a surprise to everyone as the singstar disc in question was “best of the 80’s”
‘E’s not pinin’! ‘E’s passed on! Mister orange is no more! He has ceased to be! ‘E’s expired and gone to meet ‘is maker! ‘E’s a stiff! Bereft of life, ‘e rests in peace! If you hadn’t nailed ‘im to the perch ‘e’d be pushing up the daisies! ‘Is metabolic processes are now ‘istory! ‘E’s off the twig! ‘E’s kicked the bucket, ‘e’s shuffled off ‘is mortal coil, run down the curtain and joined the bleedin’ choir invisible!! THIS IS AN EX-MISTER-ORANGE!!
sarah informed me that our relationship was over late on boxing day. as such “poop”. i seem to be taking it well. i felt something was awry over the past month or more but figured it was the stress of the nightclub and i’d give her until february-march time before making a fuss. turns out it was something else awry. today’s been a bit blissful as i’ve been doing the classic “oh, so it was because of that” revisionist history bollocks. next stage “wrath”. subsequent stages “finally do my tax return” “apply booze” “spitefully ignore the nightclub” “stop being such a whine-y cunt” “apply coffee and baklava” “do lots of stuff”
so do you get to call me “the artist formerly known as mister orange”? yes. and then i get to rape your tenement and burn down your gran.
exeunt omnes
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