The highlight of my night was two girls kissing

A word of warning to the wise, avoid E's that: (a) don't have any markings and (b) don't appear to be speckled in appearance. I ain't mad at cha General ;) got nothing but love for ya ;) 3/Aug/2K - Just changed half-assedly to half-heartedly

Clubland

We were outside the club building spliffs. From Linc's rolling technique one could easily deduce that he was the sensi (sic) out of us two. By the time I had finishing building mine they had already finished Linc's. So after a couple of tokes and a pop of a pill we headed towards the club.

At the security checkpoint the bouncer clocked my rizlas and after asking the obligatory "Do you have any tabacco?" confisicated my papers. It's just a big contradication at the end of the day isn't it? 'cause I know what I'll smell when I enter the club; green.

I saw the vibe and it was okay, but soon it became tedious. So tedious that I couldn't even be bothered to write about it. The highlight of the night was two girls kissing, but even then they didn't look like they put their hearts into it. Could've sworn it was a show for their dates, 'cause it wasn't kissing in the sense of a throat clearing, mentos fresh making, tongue slammingextravaganza; more like a 50's movie clinch in which the couple kinda smush their lips together and tilt their heads side to side.

And yes I saw plenty of eye candy but this invisible shop window prevented me from making an ass of myself. So that was it pretty girls sometimes kissing each other half-heartedly, skinny yet built lads and half balding geezers. That was the rave. It sucked.

Me and Linc left just about 2. As we waved to "The General" and Neil who regarded us with mournful eyes like the first day of school I almost wanted to run back and reassure them that they would enjoy it. Almost, but didn't.

A mission to reach Victoria

So as me and Linc left the club he pointed to the general direction of Victoria. We shook hands firmly and promised to party again. Which really meant "never again".

I began to walk in the supposed direction of Victoria but she kept the true location a "secret" almost as well hidden as her intimate garments. So after going round the bend literally and mentally I finally saw a sign post. A quick game of frogger across the dual carriageways soon brought me to Vauxhall bridge at which point I realised I looked like a pizzahut delivery boy in my black blue cargos and red hilfiger top. I saw signs; Ring road, Westminister and West End. Then I started to recognised (or at least thought I had) some familiar surroundings. Finally my suspicions were confirmed after I saw a luminous BP sign which was a comforting as a light at the door of your house.

The wheels on the bus go round and round

I felt nauseous on the bus. As I evesdropped a mobile fone conversation I came to the conclusion that I love the sound of american college girl's accents. From what I gathered during my auditory voyeurism she appeared to be at logger heads with her man. They went from cold to warm to cold to warm. Why do people persist to wash their laundry in public? I dunno if they broke up, heh that would've sucked being dumped on the fone. Hey! We've all been there right?

«::Click here to go back to my poetry node::»

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