Fifty-Eight.

27/2/14

Izzy circle

izzy

my half of gmail chat with Ben:

funny that I had to deal with the PoPo
nah
they didn’t even give a warning because it’s dead quiet now
everyone’s asleep
I gave the police cheek by accident haha
they didn’t mind
oh and I said ‘Fuck’ when they said they were here for us
yeah just made fun of them for liking 80s music ahahaa

you miss me?
yeah I miss you too.
HAH
NO
WE ARE BECOMING WET BLANKETS
WE ARE TOO COOL FOR THIS SHIT

FAR TOO COOL
BRO-ING OUT FOREVER
MISSING PEOPLE NEVER

*

Sarah circle

sarah

There has been something of an incident
By which I mean that with only the aid of a bottle of nail polish and a butter knife
I have created a massacre of red across my hands

And I need to send a message to Lady Macbeth right now
Saying ‘Hey lady the reason you can’t get the blood off your hands is that it’s not blood, it’s nail polish, and the more you rub it, the more it spreads and water is not your friend here, it only sets the polish so get yourself some methylated spirits that’ll sort you out and while you’re there I hear you can mix it with orange juice for a cheap rush but maybe don’t do that because you’re the queen and thus can probably afford mead or something.’

So here I am with a bottle of metho and a roll of paper towel
And it’s hot and clean across my hands
Smelling of camping and trouble
And the air sucks the alcohol right off my fingers
Like it never even happened
And I’m off into the night

And I’m gonna have to try real hard not to ask some guy outside a pub whether he has a lighter
Just to see whether I can set my hands alight
Like a medieval painting of the stigmata flaming onto my palms
Flopping my sparkler wrists, singing happy birthday to everyone
And I am the most spectacular thing you’ve ever seen
For about thirty seconds til the fuel runs out

*

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