I didn’t need the alarm to wake me up this morning. So keen was I to discover the joys that life had in store for me, I practically cart-wheeled out of bed at 5am. As soon as the usual semi-turgidness had subsided, I enjoyed a lavish wee-wee in the wardrobe. There wasn’t too much pain as I passed water and I didn’t even have that much of a hangover either. Marvellous.
I remember the very first time I was offered drugs by a fellow student at school. I’ll call him Geoff Castello because that was his real name. As an aside, I also recall that even though the school was in Walthamstow, the address on their stationery pompously declared them as being ‘Near Snaresbrook’ because this was deemed to be a better adjoining neighbourhood.
The recent snow has helped to metaphorically emphasise the global freezing that has enveloped our economy. It’s also inadvertently cleansed my soul and helped me to gain some perspective on life – and to appreciate what’s truly important.
I accept that every angry anarchist and idealist, who spends their entire youth rallying against the establishment, spitting vitriol and bile at society, must eventually soften a little bit… perhaps lose a little of their bite, and maybe even start relaxing. But even so, what precisely was John Lydon doing advertising butter last year?
What the fuck is a Hedge Fund anyway? Is it some sort of mortgage that enables fund managers to buy some shrubbery to sleep under after they’ve been made redundant? I’m genuinely confused.
