After spending a week lying on a plastic board in an overcrowded airport and the days after basking in swollen sinuses and flying around the back alleys of Peckham, I have finally found a perch that is not filled with the distractions of Muslim prayers whispering in my ears and half-cocked ghetto heads considering a quick mugging between prayers. This being the first time that I have officially flown the nest for the Christmas season, I thought I would write of my experiences so far.
After my flight I quickly ended up engaging with a man from Portugal. He told me that he had 2 hours to make a connecting flight @ Gatwick airport. I recommended to him to get the bus, as I had heard rumours that there was some kind of tube strike. Instead of listening he just continued following me all the way to the tube station. On the way I engaged in some small talk, which resulted in him asking me who was meeting me and where? I told him that I was hoping to meet my GF @ Victoria Station. He then proceeded to ask me if she owned a car and if so could she drive him to Gatwick airport? My rejection of this offer combined with the fact that the tube strike had halted any transport going towards his destination resulted in him staring at me aggressively and then running away. As he disappeared into the underground halls I shouted @ the top of my lungs "nice meeting you". Only stranger's stares met my exclamation.
Whilst writing that last statement I noticed that a squirrel was staring @ me through the window. I took a picture of him while he ate the crumbs that I fucked out onto the terrace. After a brief photo session he dived off the roof into the forest of fros and disappeared into the sprawling terrain.
Yesterday was the first time that I have ever been involved in the preparation of a Christmas dinner and surprisingly I have not spent the morning screaming in the hope that the wrap around my esophagus allows me to expel the tiniest drop of vomit.
Unlike the netting on our Christmas Ham it continues to remain bound and is allowing me to enjoy the meat sweats and lethargy that comes with eating a fine festive meal. The Turkey we cooked tasted very succulent, but I did find it odd that first I had to pull its neck off, that still had a small hint of a face and secondly the giblets were still inside the Turkey, but they were all contained inside a sealed bag. This I found very odd.
Today I am spending a lot of time hanging out with the remains of our Turkey & Ham. Between shaving them for lunchtime sandwiches and dinner curries I made sure to spend some much deserved time time with both of them. Attached are photos of myself and the Turkey chilling on the couch watching a Twilight marathon. The second photo is of myself and the Ham just chilling on the stairs listening to some early 90s Jungle Music.
My posts for this journey may be quite sporadic as I am currently hijacking a neighbour's wifi and they have a habit of switching off their box when they leave the house (IMMANUEL KANTS). Until my next post have yourself a hoot and don't believe anything regarding the MRHP Midget party and how this connects with my extended journey out of the Country.
Merry Christmas and an Atheist New Year,
Owl.
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