The new ones are air-conditioned, apparently.

JULY 27TH:

I SAW: A man wearing plus-fours, knee socks and loafers.



I SAW: A photo of David Hasselhoff, slumped in a drunken stupor in Heathrow airport with a large urine stain on his crotch.



I SAW: Rosanna Davison and her boyfriend 'James' (Jimlad?) on the cover of VIP, the article promised to divulge all about their "IDYLLIC LIFE TOGETHER." They were pedalling a boat together and smiling.



THEN I: scanned a jar of horse-radish for a lady at my till, looked up and said "Horse-radish." Instead of "1.89." Then she laughed so I PUNCHED HER.



AND SEVERAL HOURS PREVIOUSLY I: Got a stolen wallet back, minus the money, under very suspicious circumstances - if the guy at the dart station is reading this you know EXACTLY what I'm talking about



While I'm here and you are too, I still can't link and you're all* a bunch of interweb-nerdalings anyway so you probably know all about POPBITCH www.popbitch.com so go sign up. Why should you, you ask? What have I done to gain your respect or make you interested in any of my opinions? Who do I think I am, writing a stupid, self-indulgent pseudo-kooky Bridget Jones style blog about nothing, so inane and grating you shock yourself by wishing a terminal illness on me then clap your hand to your mouth in shame when the thought process happens, when there's a war going on in the Lebanon?

Then I remember it's just two of you, *Stigmund and James, so I tell you both to shove it.

GT x



"It's psychosomatic. You need a lobotomy. I'll get a saw."

The opposite of goodthink is crimethink

I'd like to share a story.

While waiting for a bus one night, a couple of months ago, a man sitting beside me was shouting into his mobile. He was sweating, and fidgeting. "Yeah I KNOW I'm having an episode Teresa, I'm BI-POLAR, I'm BI-POLAR, I KNOW I'm manic at the moment!" he hissed. It was a cold night, and even though he was surrounded by people, it seemed this man was almost untouchable in his loneliness. Hunched over, defeated by life, he shouted, but no-one really heard him...


This was an upsetting and sad situation, but I think it serves as a neat metaphor for this blogger's intentions for her blog, and says a lot about who I am. This simple anecdote sets the tone. Picture this broken ruin of a man and his lonely, private torture, see the bus stop, hear his rants - it's like a window into my soul.



Because I'm neither bi-polar nor having a manic episode, but I do listen in to the private conversations of people minding their own business, and I quietly but firmly judge those same people.






goodthink: "A little rudeness and disrespect can elevate a meaningless interaction to a battle of wills, and add drama to an otherwise dull day."



GT x