Invisible Stranger


Invisible Stranger

Collecting Crises on Old Compton Street and Beyond

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Little Tinker

Currently clicking:
- bboyblues
- bitful
- blue witch
- diamondgeezer
- glitter for brains
- london calling
- naked blog
- troubled diva

Usually Playing:
- ute
- neil and chris
- peter and anna
- june
- kurt

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Monday, May 10, 2004
What I Did On My Holidays
Bought brand-new digital camera. Took two piccies before sadly realising neither my friends nor myself are glamorous enough for me ever to be considered the new Testino. Lost interest. Resolved to lose unglamorous friends as well, and get myself a makeover.

Decided to be Dead Cultural and view the documents and manuscripts on display at the British Library down the road. Got as far as King's Cross and bought a mucky magazine and a too-tight T-shirt instead.

Went to a party in the hope of meeting up with some interesting new company. Made inappropriate suggestion to friend of same gender but of different persuasion. Avoided his and my local pub for rest of week through embarrassment.

Went to the gym for the first of five workouts. Compared myself to the lithe and lissom lurking behind the lockers, and realised the only way I am ever going to have a body halfway as decent as a knickers model is if I pay for it. And unfortunately not with sweat. Gave up week's other planned workouts and commiserated with myself over pizza, pudding and Pils. Had stomach cramps all the following morning.

Considered going out to an all-nighter, conveniently sited just seven and half minutes' shamble from chez Stranger. Realised there are certain things a man of my age and gravitas should not be seen doing in public, no matter how dark it is once you get inside. These include being stripped to the waist on the nearest elevated surface, waving a glo-stick in the air whilst whooping to some remix of next-door's Hoover, and sniffing a lot. Stayed in with a bottle of wine and watched Parkinson instead. Decided that, even though I still haven't found myself, I can no longer count myself as one of the Lost Boys.

Couldn't make up my mind whether I should fly off here for bouillabaisse, here for Gaudi, or there for revenge. Settled for bacon cheeseburger and a moan in exotic Zone One.

My next week-long holiday is at the end of June, and, after heroically failing at everything I promised myself this break, I am determined to Do Something next time round. Will someone please draw me up a list of interesting and constructive things to do? And then make sure I do them this time?