Wow. I've just remembered that Nytol gives you fucked up dreams if you take too many of them.
And it leaves you with a mouth that tastes brown. Fuck.
Second awake and it's Monday fucking morning. What a load of old shit. Note to self: take next Monday off. There are only so many in a month one can endure.
On the goddam train. And ye I have forsaken La Ligne De La Centrale* plus the Ham & City Line and am travelling on London Overground. Variety and all that...
*= the Central Line.
It seems it doesn't matter which line you travel on, they're all a fucking pandemonium.
Take this London Overground for example. The train heaves from side to side, thronged with Londoners hanging on, for as many as possible are crammed into the carriage, stuffed in and on their way to work.
Some singing, others chanting. It's a goddam fucking circus masked as public transport. Look...
Finally we're at Shepherd's Bush and we can get off. The circus continues to the next stop.
Dash into Waitrose because I need to get some soya milk for my protein shake. This is breakfast.
The only place I'm able to find, where I can mix up my protein shake is on a table in amongst the posh shops. I get stared at as though I'm mixing up some sort of radioactive device.
Protein shakes and Prada...
What a pisser.
Westfield is quiet as it always seems to be.
When I'm there: nothing. When other people are there...
Right. In the second / middle picture he's the one on the left. In the bottom picture he's the one third from the back.
Army of stalkers... Ha-ten-shun!
You were so good in identifying Peter, the Abercrombie & Fitch model from Swansea who was born on 9 May and loves the Stereophonics... so what do you know of this new guy? He's our latest crush.
We also spotted him holding the Selfridges banner at London Pride...
So get working. Who is he? Is he kind to animals? Does he smell nice?
(How does he smell? With his nose...)
Er, anyway. E-mail everything you know so we can share - foxycoxy AT me.com or leave a comment. Now.
Sitting at my desk, working.
Or at least, it would appear that I am working.
Catching up on stuff and I learn an interesting fact. I shall share it...
Did you know there is a thing called Paris Syndrome? Basically, Japanese tourists have this idealised and romantic view that Paris is beautiful, sophisticated and all French people wear Chanel and act chic.
Of course the reality is anything but. Like all men who work in London don't wear bowler hats.
Anyway, such is a typical Japanese tourist's expectation of Paris that when they arrive and find that the city is actually rather big, crowded and dirty, they go into a state of shock that can lead to them having a breakdown!
Strange. But true. Here and here.
File under: Jealous, Bitter
People who take photos of themselves like this...
... and them stick them up on Facebook as their profile pictures want shooting, they really do.
The guy sat behind me is looking at dodgy messageboards because everytime he sees me out of the corner of his eye, he minimises the screen.
I wish I knew what he was looking at...
Back on La Ligne De La Centrale. Boy-oh-boy... what a fucking carriage of chaos!
I've been at Cape Town buskers market on a Saturday morning where tens of thousands of people surge into the tiniest space possible to try and grab whatever they can. That chaos is nothing when compared to this...
It's a fucking near-riot! Run! For! Cover!
God, this freaks out me...
People who put their bags on the floor. Do they have any idea how siff* it is down there?
Imagine the soles of tens of thousands of people who've stumped their crap into the same bit of floor. Resting your bag on the floor of the Tube is like resting it in a dustbin.
I actually have difficulty looking at that sort of thing. It's the same as going into a squat in Brixton and splashing your face with water from a toilet that hasn't been flushed for around 5.7 years (leap year included).
* = sif is a South Africa expression meaning "urgh". Like "ohmygod, that's just sif". Or "sif, that's just sif."
I think you can also spell it siff. But not Cif. That's a make of British household cleaner.
At the gym is Liam who's barely able to fucking contain himself. He's working out with the straight who he loves. It's just wrong.
(Read: Further jealousy)
"Liam, for god's sake. You're going to poke someone's eye out. Surely you could have worn a tighter pair underneath?"
"His leg touched my face while he was spotting me."
"I saw up his shorts."
"I think you need to go and have a wank."
Did I ever tell you that Liam has a nice bum? Well I am now.
It's lemming time at the gym which means that wherever I stand, someone will come and stand right next to me.
If you're doing pec flys on the bench, they will come and stand next to you and do fucking stretching or some shit.
Especially the ones who should rather be on a treadmill.
There are certain situations where humans behave like sheep. The gym is one such place.
If you're running on the last treadmill in an empty row, there is always someone who will come and use the one right next to you.
(I know we've crossed this together bridge before.)
The same with escalators, if you're in an airport or on the Underground.
If there are two escalators going up, people will always head to try and use the escalator that is the most busy. Airport check-in desks too. Typical humans will always stand and wait at the desk that has the longest queue.
Humans are sheeps. Lemmings are an accurate portrayal of the human condition. It really annoys me and really intrigues me in equal measure.
Queensway station on the Underground; two lifts going up to street level. People will always gather at the lift where the most people are waiting. It's bizarre.
The same with Covent Garden Tube station which gets overcrowded. There is probably an announcement every 10.2 seconds; "Leicester Square tube station is less busy and a minute walk away - you will be better getting off at Leicester Square."
But despite that, most people will still get off at Covent Garden and everyone else will follow them. For no logical reason, other than thanks to herd mentality.
In supermarkets. People will always stand at the end of the queue that's the longest.
On a train, people will always try and sit in the carriage that is the most full. Take the London to Leeds service.
The first few coaches in Standard are always rammed with people. And the conductor will say "Ladies and Gentleman, there are two empty carriages at the end of the train", but nobody will move even though there are people standing in the aisles.
Perhaps there is an element of "safety in numbers" too...
I can understand in a restaurant, it's nice to be sat with everyone else. No-one wants to sit in the empty corner but getting onto a hot, packed Piccadilly Line train at Green Park?!
At the start of the platform it is always seething with people and the announcement is made; "if you move down to the end of the platform, there is more space."
But a Tannoy is useless because people will hear it but won't listen or move. Once the train arrives they will all try and squeeze into the same carriage.
Some will even miss the train and wait for the next one!
And don't just take my word for it. Stand at the furtherest end of the platform, going westbound on the Piccadilly Line at Green Par. I guarantee you, you will step into an empty carriage.
At the other end of the platform, people will just about be falling onto the tracks because it's so crowded.
I cannot fathom the reasons?! Or maybe I can but they're just too depressing to contemplate.
I'm going to cook some chicken for tomorrow's lunch. In the oven all together. It's easier to to roast them all at once.