| This is a diary that was given to me to post. I have no part in it's writing what so ever. It is completely un-edited and how I was given it. It is written by an un-named assailant, so any feedback positive or otherwise will have to be sent through me. In the introduction for the site it says it's for talented writers and crazy people with a need to rant, this is somewhere in the middle. |
| Diary Part One |
| This is the Journal of a friend of mine, in it he writes about his thought processes. In the index for this site I say that it is for talented writers and nutters who feel like a rant, Richard (the �Author� in question) come somewhere between these boundaries. Anyhow, I found it mildly amusing and decided to post it, I hope there is more to follow. This is unedited and I take no credit for it�that means you can�t mock me for it as well. The Journal. Wednesday 03 September 2003. Today, I awoke, in a bed. The mere thought of a BED plunged a feeling of sickness and disgrace into the pit of my stomach. After this thought, my brain was graced with the word Spain, which lingered for a while, like the arid, dry, ignorant country it is. Left speechless in my 'bed', I quietly analysed the word SPAIN. Only to discover that it consists of the letter 'S' and the word, 'PAIN'. I am not particularly fond of the letter 'S' to start with, and I also dislike PAIN... unless I am personally inflicting it onto an ethnic minority. I questioned myself... Was there anything to like about SPAIN??? ...The answer of course, was no. Within the next half an hour, I mad my way downstairs to sit, and watch television. To my horror... a horrible man, by the name or Enrique Iglesias popped up and refer something horrible into my ears. He Was From SPAIN... I was sure of it... going by my own saying, ''Horrible name? Probably from Spain...'' This quickly linked me onto my next chain of thought... My mind quickly linked Spain, with SHAKEIRA, who grew up in COLUMBIA but who's first language is Spanish. I noticed that if I Re-arranged the letters in her name, SHAKEIRA, I could make ' A SHARK EAR '... give or take a few letters. A FUCKING SHARK EAR, how disgusting, I had made myself feel ill... like someone with one of those horrible eating disorders. Disgusted by the television, I decided to venture into the 'City Centre' at around 12 noon. I had a shower firstly, so not to smell like an immigrant. I clambered aboard the number 61 bus to take my seat on the top deck. Nothing had yet interfered with my well being... until a fateful moment in Selly Oak, where a shop caught my attention. Being called 'TAN LAND' it was bound to wasn't it. TAN LAND, how unfortunate. At this moment 3 rather dark men came onto the top deck of the bus... shit, who am I kidding, rather dark, they were blacker than black.... , OBVIOUSLY, they had spent FAR FAR too long in TAN LAND. It was like god was playing a joke on me, it was about as fare as community service. Unscathed by this, I arrived in town. I took back some shoes; brought some new shoes... it was all fine, nice day, not too hot, not too cold. THEN, my friend, I see this horrible, horrible woman. She was about 50...white and had no teeth, and had shit hair like Barry white... which, I suppose I could have overlooked, if it wasn�t for the fact that she sported a T-SHIRT, with WORDS on it. Together, the words created a horrible sentence, ''A SPLIFF A DAY KEEPS THE DOCTOR AWAY'' ... My feelings at this time were rather impossible to describe. I felt ill, deep down, ill, rotten, I felt TARNISHED by life. I did not END this WOMAN�S existence... but it�s the thought that counts. Next, before having a chance to recover from this horrible woman, I am back to the issue of SPAIN. A horrible GRINGO, with a moustache and a gap in his teeth... stood NEAR me... Squeezing a BOX, that in turn was creating NOISE. A BOX THAT MAKES NOISE!? I truly felt scarred. I won�t linger on the issue of SPAIN much longer... hold down your bile. GOSH, I really was disgusted with town, what had it become. My next issue goes without saying really, as ANYONE who has visited town will probably have encountered this nasty man. YEP u got it!! THAT horrible man from CHINA with those Toy DOGS that MAKE noise. What a GIT. DOGS AND NOISE TOGETHER? It�s enough to make a WALL sick. *SIGH*... ONTO my final moan about today. As I was FLEEING town on a BUS... I encountered a yet another thing which infected me. OK, it was like I had ventured into HELL, had as much as I could take, then, FOR A FUCKING LAUGH, they saved the best trick till last, just as I was in submission. I climbed above the second bus that approached the stop, the 1st one that came, was a tacky little nail bomb, the kind that tabiban blow up in training exercises. SO, up the stairs I went, to a relatively empty top deck. I had my pick of seating, and stupidly chose a seat in the middle, with room for horrible bastards in front of me and behind me... SO there I sat happily. UNTIL the bus started shaking like that dude with Parkinson�s. IT rocked from side to side, like the driver was having a laugh with the hydraulic suspension. I thought to myself ''SHIT!! IS THERE A DINOSAUR COMING UP THE STAIRS!''... Unfortunately, I wasn�t far wrong. As I saw a horrible FAT head peer over the top of the stairwell... *SIGH* ... I looked in disgust, as MR MOON gravitated down onto the seat in front of me. FUCK IT, it wasn�t MR MOON, I think it was actually THE SHITTING MOON, in a pair of NEBULA sized blue CORDS. The hairs stood up on the back of my neck as the moon sat down, and the seat contemplated buckling, which would have crushed my legs. Just picture this please... I get on a bus... I pay my fare... AND THE MOON GETS ON IT!! THE GOD DAMN MOON. shit!! I almost had a seizure. I could have insulated one of the ARCTIC POLES with his Shit-off-mega-bastard CORDS. After all the world had thrown at me, I arrived home safely and didn�t get sucked into an orbit around the moon. And I can honestly say, I felt sick... I sat down, drank some water, and clutched my mouth, as if my mere hands could have held back the torrent of discharge if I had of detonated. THE END. |