Saturday 6 August 2011

listen up. now gather 'round

i was laying in bed with my mate. my arms wrapped around his huge shoulders like one of those velcro-hand monkeys every bastard had at school except me

"hmmm," he sighed, "my dianabol hasn't turned up."

"your... what?" i was stroking the hair on his chest. with body his pulled in close, firm arse tight up against my crotch, and with his head resting under my chin so i can't be blamed for not really listening. "your diana wall?"

"diana what?"

"um..." i didn't want to admit i just had an extremely gay moment and imagined he was anxiously awaiting the delivery of his Princess Diana memorabilia. a collection so large it would fill an entire wall if his apartment. made of pictures, magazine cut-outs and commemorative plates he had decoupaged himself with sparkles and macaroni. but i was still half asleep and couldn't cover my embarrassingly gay tracks, "your.. um... diana wall. your homage to... the people's... princess?"

"um... no."

speaking of not paying attention, i'm not paying attention to work today. so i'm taking the day off laying on the sofa watching SPACED



which means after a i finish watching all the episodes i will need to watch Sean of the Dead



then Hot Fuzz...



then i'm going to question my attraction to pin-up cub Nick Frost. then the delightfully anti-christian Paul



i'm not getting of the couch today

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