"We've been crying now for much too long, And now we're gonna dance to a different song. Gonna sream and shout til my dying breath, Gonna smash it up til theres nothing left."
There are many things that I cannot see the point in and tanning salons are at least three of them. The one I pass on the way home is run by this 40ish man who seems to partake himself. His hue can only be described as orange, he actually looks like he was made out of orange peel. The woman he had in there looked as though she was varnished. In my travels this week I have spotted several girls wearing the legend "Hooch" across their arses wasn't that the dog in the Tom Hanks movie? What are the manufacturers trying to say? That the nation's women are dogs? I think pigs would be kinder, but not to pigs. Coming home the other night on the litter strewn bus a girl who was heavier than me but wore clothes a little too tight was dolled up to the nines. Big hoopy earrings probably from Argos, white clothes to make her bottle tan even more pronounced She seem to think that she was god's gift to man, the poor man that fucked god off must have really pissed him off for that gift. She was as friendly with tanning solution as she was a stranger to salad is all I'm saying. But she seemed to think she was Winona Ryder or Kate Winslet when it would have been closer to Vanessa Feltz in Posh Spice's clothes. I'd also like to point out that the goth look doesn't work if you aren't gaunt and pasty, not like the Miss Piggy stunt double that mounts my bus every morning. No friend to weight watchers I can tell you. Anyway I'm transfered to the Bournemouth branch so I probably won't see the ug bugs anymore woo hoo. Just as annoying is my landlord (part zombie part Rigsby) when he drives in Burnout Revenge on the Xbox. He completely missed the point of the game, IE drive fast, cause wrecks, win races, destroy cars, drive agressively and then drive really fast. In his honour I am going to try and design a game called Burnout:Drive like a pussy. It was only a matter of time before he started to use turn signals and stopping for a picnic lunch in a layby. A whole line of traffic to hit, at least thirty cars all lined and he misses every single one. Striaght down the middle. I was an old hand at the game (which is why I found it so frustrating I suppose), My pointers were ignored more or less, I was Burgess Meridith to his Sylvester Stallone trying to coach him. Although when I pointed this out to him he mentioned that unlike Burgess I didn't look like I'd been punched in the face twenty times, I thought I'd better stop a hints a hint afterall.
Anyway here's the music you came for. We have some more Wedding Present Watusi this time. The Wedding Present - *Punk (avi) live footage and video clips, Cinerama Peel Sessions part 3.