Identity theft.

i've stolen my identity just by getting my hair cut and glasses, to fix the glaring inconsistency between my eyes, leading to my lovely nickname at school of quasi. Not that i'm bitter, nah I like it, if my eyes were different shapes I couldn't sing mis-shapes to them. Still The geezar in the corner shop wouldn't believe my passport was me. moment of identity crisis reckoned that perhaps i couldn't prove i was in fact myself. Still only pondered the possibilities of non existing till i was thrown out the shop.

joy o.



Work clothes sorted, boots and jeans and t-shirts, Harrington jacket and hair cut. working cutting open boxes and lifting things so I can day dream all day and spend my meagre pay check on clothes and booze. better than the dole and just drink.


reading about radiation sickness cos of a day dream whilst at a party if all the glass was blown in. windows smashed and grass on fire and having to fix it. turns out there aint no cure for irradiation aside from potassium iodide. the worst thing is gamma radiation burns. which like basically burns you from the inside out. which is horrible.


and completely ruins my day dream, how would I be able to send the second year medical student to the university lab to mix up a semi antidote while i patched up all the broken glass victims and then there weren't enough so we had to decide on who was worth while to survive?


and then steal a yacht in the ensuing chaos and sail to the Scillie isles and wait till the nuclear winter stopped in to sail off round the horn on a flotilla?

Life is unfair!