I went to Iceland to do me shopping. I spent 60 quid on mostly drinks.... Soft drinks. I got back and was trying to unpack the bags with the freezer stuff quickly thawing. A neighbour knocked on the door. She has a new PC.
"Umm these printer things?" I could feel my patience rackle "Umm how do you get ink in them?"
I explained that they all need different cartridges.
"Umm I saw one at the car boot Saturday for a tenner but didn't have any money"
I told her it probably wouldn't have fitted her one anyways.
Then she starts telling me about the city farm up the road and how they need money and how they're going to do a fun day. Guess the weight of the cake and 10 sweets for 10p and name the teddy bear to raise money and would I like to help?
Do I look like fucking Noah and his fucking ark?
Am I a miserable hot bitch or what? But I hate those city farm things. Smelly grungy places. Full of Christian do gooders and those awful 'real life' Nativity tableaux at Christmas. The Windmill Hill one is a very odd place full of breast feeding mothers swinging their kids on their nipples round the goats and Happy Clapping to the beat of Jesus. Oh and the slimming world meetings on a Monday Morning.
I went out and put the washing on the line... Yes Springs swimming gear. He managed a full 5 lengths today.
All our back gardens are in a row. Each garden has a trampoline situated in it and each trampoline had a kid bouncing up and down. No one is talking to one another as they've all had arguments. One kid said she'd done 50 bum drops and another said she'd done 1000 bum drops. Everyone sneered that this wasn't possible and it ended in tears. Then the scruffy kid three doors down spat on next doors trampoline.
All you can here is the eerie squeak of the springs and see the tops of their heads as they bounce.
This is our future. These children will lead us out from oppression and war and forge forward with 5 million bum drops.
This weekend me and Spring are heading out of Bristol to the Moors.
Luckily we aren't here for this years Love fest. Yes, south Bristol is hosting LoveBristolFestival 2006. But it's not the mass orgy nude fest you lot might think. It's a Christian Festival.
Their philosophy
"We believe this city needs love expressed in kindness, compassion and neighbourliness"
I believe they should sod off. Thankfully we are away. Imagine Spring's face if he had to cope with any of that crap? Guess the name of the baby Jesus doll and the weight of the bread and fish basket.
"Thou shalt not spit on thy neighbours 12 foot trampoline". Nice.
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