Um, I’m not real good at englanding. Can you do it for me?
And for those who haven’t watched Dana Carvey’s recent stand up stuff on Netflix, fucking watch it. He’s got the funny. And the true.
Jetlag is punching me in the face. Super hard. It’s punched my words out of shape and made my underwear end up backwards. Or was that because I dressed without looking? I don’t care. England can suck it. I don’t need to dress sexy for England. If England don’t fancy me the way I am then it can send me away for America lessons and I will never return. Ha! I win.
Just seen Tony which were all good and nice, like. I like some England people, I just don’t see how I can call this place home any longer when I now have a t-shirt that spells ‘favour’ without the ‘u’ in it. I know I need to be here a while because money falls away on vacation and I’m going to have to eat potato or rice with added nothing on the side for about a month just to catch up with bills and rent. As if I care. This past year I’ve been on three of the best vacations of my entire life. And I’m a cripple. Think how much fun you could have if you’re not a cripple and you leave the shores of this land you seem to imagine isn’t part of the rest of the world!
If you voted to remain in the EU that previous sentence wasn’t aimed at you and you’re not a dick.
I miss my people. How rude of them to live thousands of miles away. Or how rude of me to live thousands of miles away. Please can we fix this somehow? I shall now sit down and shut up like a small, hairy fuck.