(diaryland) September 2, 2000 - 17:51:59

I just noticed I have biscuit implanted in my jumper. I can't remember when this happened. I ate biscuits on eight different occasions today. It could have happened at any time. Scary, isn't it? I think it's the government.

I got Roland to come over and clean my room tonight. He's just on his way now. He hasn't seen the full extent of the apocalyptic qualities of my mess yet. Ha ha. Sucker.

Last night, Rosie and I were going to see a movie. But then we found out the free tickets I had weren't useable on Friday nights. So we decided to go to the city, buy an exercise book and some abrasive cigarettes, and sit outside the Treasury Building and be Beat poets. Easier said than done, man. First of all, we couldn't find a place that sold exercise books. We looked all over the place. Then it began to rain. That blew the idea of writing poems outside. We did get the cigarettes rather early on, though. The lighter we bought tried to rip off our thumbs whenever we tried to light it. It was a feisty little bugger.

Eventually, we completed our mission of getting the exercise book, and I had blown all my money on buying a tabloid magazine, mostly because it had a seen-to-be-believed picture of a permed Shania Twain circa 1994. It's a funny picture.

We went to the Purple Emerald, that jazz club we went to once. We thought we'd be really Beat poet if we went there. There was a huge line trailing outside the door, so we decided to let that idea go. We had a smoke. Neither of us are smokers, so it was funny. There was a lot of coughing and spluttering, but we were so fucking BEAT, man. Check us out. We are BEAT.

Anyway, then we decided to go somewhere else, so we did. We walked through rainy streets filled with random people blowing into horns. This chick kept yelling, "STAVO!" and running. We ended up in the middle of a bunch of exuberant horn-blowers, one of whom was the famous Stavo. His T-shirt said, "Porn Star in Training". I could see why all the chicks liked Stavo, man. I mean, it was the COOLEST T-Shirt EVER, man. He had sideburns. Everyone likes Stavo.

It was then I noticed that the exercise book had disappeared. We'd gone through hell to get that exercise book, man. It was like experiencing Nam getting that exercise book, man. Man. So we did a huge backtrack through the streets, back to the Purple Emerald, and there it was, lying folorn, and really really wet, in the street.

We picked it up, wrung it out, and walked to the cinema we were supposed to see the movie in. We sat outside and we were fucking Beat, man. Finally. We wrote poems and did a crossword. Then we went home. We still had only smoked one cigarette each.