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Ugh ( Read more... ) -
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It's - fucking - gone.
All of it, everything. Not even any stretch marks left behind, no bleeding, nothing. Like the end of a fucking nightmare with no consequences. None of my clothes fit.
Did someone do something in my sleep, yeah? Is this magical bullshit, boy blue?
...Ne? -
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So I smashed my way into my old flat, for about the eighty-seventh time, to find Neon and Jones dancing away like electroshock spastics. And Ne really dances when she dances, you know, I mean it's like controlled rioting to a beat. She must have been pretty fucking exhausted, her make-up had all run and she was sweating, all red in the face - Jones ( Read more... ) -
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I've got a job. (And you can fuck off with your wageslave nine-to-five gripings before you even start, because it isn't, and I'm not.) I'm Dajve's new assistant. And before you all start thinking, 'ooh, Ultra is our very special pal, she'll get us autographs and photos and interviews', remember what happens when people ask me for favours, because ( Read more... ) -
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Boy in the dress: clear a room, I'm staying at yours for a bit. Can't think in this flat. Decisions need making, and all I'm doing is faffing. Figure spending some time with the childminded retards you call flatmates will make my mind up one way or the other. -
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Fucking, rain of shit, my life. Fuckers ( Read more... ) -
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Neon, get your fucking white arse out of hiding, girl. Haven't seen you since this morning. Best not be larking about with anyone I don't know ( Read more... ) -
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Lock up your daughters and hide the fine china, because Ultra is back. I'm here to do heroin and fuck.
I'm all out of heroin.
Laters, tosscunts. -
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I GOT A NEW HAT ( Read more... ) -
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OMG ( Read more... )