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LDN, United Kingdom
I am Shaz. It's hard work. But someone's gotta do it. I am a part time freak and full time retard. I also do some casual work as a skank and I volunteer as your mother. NICE TO MEET YOU! Welcome to the biggest rant factory in the history of the internet. I've got more apathy than the entire emo population of the world combined. Only kidding. I'm real nice

Wednesday, 23 February 2011

HARE KRISHNA!

"Excuse me!"
"Me?"
"Yeah sorry you dropped something just over there..."

I turn thinking "Last night I managed to spill half a bottle of squash on my bastard notes, I bet they've decided to jump out of my bag. Now. In the middle of Oxford Street. When it's pissing down with rain. And I've got a deadline looming. Today. FUCK!"

I look. I don't see anything. I look harder. I look back at the man about to make or break my morning.

"It's your smile"

DO YOU WANT ME TO HIT YOU?!

Hare Krishna representative or not. YOU DO NOT LIE.

And it was lying. Cause you can't drop a smile. At least I don't think you can.

So I did smile. Mission accomplished fella. Or is it? you neither broke or made anything. Apart from my near enough immaculate "fashionably late" timing.

It was half 11. I was meant to be there for 9.

He then tried to give me a book - SORRY give me a book in return for a donation. I don't have a problem with that. Charity shops do it. Y'all just took it to the streets.

BUT I DO HAVE A PROBLEM.

First of all... FLATTERY WILL GET YOU NO WHERE IN TERMS OF MONEY OUT OF MY POCKET.

I swear to you
"Beautiful people usually donate more!"

NO! They spend their money on being beautiful.
By that logic I must be absolute crap cause that's what I spend my money on.
I'm also tasty. Food. It's a given.

SECONDLY... I am an English Literature student. I have enough trouble reading the books on my own bloody reading lists. What makes you think I have the time to read ANYTHING but this stuff?!

I know it's been a while in terms of postage and as much as I want to apologize I shan't. Cause I HAVE NO NEED FOR MANNERS.

See what I did there? Swiftly moving from one topic to another. Awh yeah.

Anyways. I had to have an actual conversation with someone on such things. Apparently you can be an adult but act like a 12 year old. You know that awkward "You can't tell me what to do... You're not my mum...." You damn lucky I'm not or you wouldn't be able to sit straight for a week as you'll be needing surgery to remove my shoe from your colon. SI? SI.

I can't believe the audacity of people though. I've been lied to. A few times. More than I care for. But there are some killers though...

"Why did you swear at me?"
"Oh that's just how I am. I swear for no reason."

WHAT?!

"Did you ask him about it?"
"Yeah he said he'd told me about it before and I must've forgotten"

WHAT?!

"I'm sure you can squeeze into a size 12.. try!"

WHAT?!

Yeah so lies aren't fun.

You know what else isn't fun. Dickheads. The kind that are willing to put someone down for personal gain. Not real personal gain. Just a spasticated sense of it just for themselves.

How are you gonna sit there and tell me I'm shit in order to get in MY FRIEND'S good books? Have you been on this planet before?

BLEURGH.

Enough. Time to shower. Long hair takes too long to shampoo, condition, detangle and dry in't morning.

Night!
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