April - What A Fool's Idea
This month is cursed. It's the worst on the best of days. Or that I'm just a miserable git. Don't judge just yet. The sun is out, and girls with fat feet are pulling out the dusty last-year sale gladiator sandals and making that lazy woody slap-slap-slap noise on the pavement as they waddle on, feeling the heat bear down onto their fleshy pink shoulders. There are some girls already fashioning and restarting the traditional season wear of boob tubes and tube skirts. Some things should legally not be allowed to droop so low or swing so violently as you walk (or waddle).
There are some cheery fellas wearing three-quarter chinos to match with fluorescent polo shirts, drinking a cool beer outside on the patio and having a real laddish banter. At least 1 out of 9 have brought along a pair of jeans in case it gets a little chilly for their hairy wax virgin limbs. Good to plan ahead.So yes, I've painted quite a vivid picture. It's warm and sunny and it's Spring; daffodils are sprouting up everywhere and people are walking around almost naked; what's there not to like? But I am still miserable as rat's arse. WHY? I am no further to getting my assignments out the way, and I've been having a series of issues to deal with overall.
Numero UNO - there is no such thing as a 'free car', and so my father should not say such things and keep me at the edge of hope every single day. You can say it about a pony, it wouldn't matter - I don't like horses.A car is different matter, it is the means of transport and liberates me from being a housewife in training, and a chance to possibly elope with a Nigerian looking for a fast visa? Oh ho ho...?
Joke, Daddy... I joke. I'd never get with a Nigerian; that particular word should be replaced with 'African', as you can imagine why. #itsnotaboutracismitsaboutsearchmodifications
I have no idea why I've gotten into a habit of using hash tags where they shouldn't be. I blame society, cause I'm a punk. #thishashtagwasnecessarytoprovemypointofhowmuchofapunkIcanbe Daddy Khan still has not delivered the goods, and therefore I am near to adopting a cockney accent, donning a suit, getting involved in the drugs business down by the South London ports and work myself up the ladder, becoming the owner of a vicious pitbull terrier and a Colt .42, practice how to combine the look and start a debt-collecting business and gain a ring of thugs as my personal bodyguards and collectors and then I'll reign my fist down on my house door, wait for someone to answer it and offer me a hot beverage which I'll decline but secretly I'd want, and I'll talk hard with Daddy Khan and make sure he delivers my car the following day...Or I can just pester him everyday til he's pissed off enough to just hand me the cash. Cha-Ching! Either way, I think I'll be WINNING? Charlie Sheen is just such a cliché for this, damnit... So yeah, no car that should belong to me is in the driveway - after many test drives, searching, phoning up, my death trap hasn't come to me yet.
Numero DOS - University work. What a betch, end of.
Numeros TRES - THE SUN. UFF, I NEED SUN. And I need to just complain more about university work one more time whilst the sun is out - for that, it deserves two numeros cause that's how it annoys me. It is not fun when the workload is piling up fast and it's as appealing to me as the mother of all dog messes - not at all, basically.The sun is essential to me, for I am brown; it's like Harry Potter's Invisible Cloak but the powers of being Brown are to be taken seriously, it is afterall a gift from God.
I am nor white or black, and I'm hoping to certainly not to ever become a vampirish dull Twilight-loser gay grey (girls who wear the wrong colour foundation that makes them look like toothy crack addicts, I'm talking to YOU). Brown is cool -but actually, it's cause we're so HOT! (note: this term can be digested to the average white person for literal purposes in two ways; relative to heat temperature and the slang term for astounding physical beauty. Sorry but it's true; we have it all in the looks, even though it's hidden behind clumps masses of thick matted hair/a sexy shapeless burqa - WALLAHI!). Right now, I'd say I was a light to medium brown, and if given a little time to frolic in the sun and pay water paddle with some small children - no pedo in case you jips start - I'd be 3 different shades darker to the power of Brown; I'm could be Sri Lankan Brown if I had no work to do and did nothing but let the sun kiss my face - see how it works?I'd be blicked and even be mistaken to be a Bengali (medium to dark Brown, not the best kinda Brown but it's a Brown person's version of being 'Tangoed' or 'Wotsitised'), but shit on it and call it patty cake, I'd be happy! So this was a rant entry. As if the ones previously before the transformation promise. Feck it, I'll be as ranty as like. I'm done now, so pish off til next time trolls. Blegh.
