Regressing Like Brad Pitt in that Weird Film

‘London is a palimpsest’. Was it Peter Aykroyd who said that? I think it was.

 

This week the capital saw the closure of some of its foremost rock venues. The block on the corner of Oxford Street and Charring Cross Road is being demolished to comport the extension of Tottenham Court Road Station. It’s inevitable that the city needs to swallow up concrete sometimes but like many people I feel a sharp pang of sadness. The backdrop to so many of my teenage exploits is turning to rubble.

 

Before I could walk past the London Astoria and remember Spliknot’s first UK tour(yeah, I KNOW. That was a short phase. Good loops). Or going to see Therapy? for the first time at the LA2. And then there is Metro’s, my home away from home, the stage of my first English friendships, my boyfriend fainting in my arms and subsequently dumping me(must have got concussed), hanging around Trafalgar Square at 4am and surviving on a diet of cider and snickers. Wearing black lipstick and dog collars. Aaaah bless. The music moved me so much it hurt in my heart.

 

I went to say goodbye to Metro this tuesday and made sure I made homage to the 16-year-old me. Jumping over the fence to smoke a fag in Soho Square(Why?!!!!!) then having to make a swift escape as I got spotted by bobbies on the beat. Starting a moshpit that resulted in me getting a fat lip and a collection of impressive and painful bruises. Headbanging so much my shoulders hurt two days later.

 

It was worth it. Soon I’ll walk past there and all that will be left to tell the story will be the local tramps hanging by the cash machines. I want a little picture tattoed in my brain to remind me of all that was and of all the nights I can barely remember.

Where it is a Little Bit Warmer.

I know this story is shooting fast around the globe, but it’s so darn cute I can’t resist posting a link here. Talk about being swept off your feet by a whirlwind romance!

Take the Hint, Donkey Breath.

Once upon a Christmas, my uncle gave me ‘The Little Book of Wisdom’. I am still not quite sure exactly what he was trying to imply by that. Nevertheless, there was some sound advice in there, which I’ve made a point of remembering through the years.

 

One page stood out in particular, and I follow it to this day:

 

‘If someone offers you a breath mint, take it.’

‘V’ is for ‘Vengeance’

I’ve noticed the topic of revenge popping up in conversation again and again recently. I guess retaliation is a natural human drive, and with my 2-year-old son it happens instantly: If you snatch his toy or steal his sandwich, you’re going to hear about it straight away. But as parents everywhere educate their children not to hit other children in the playground, not fight, keep a straight face through life’s disappointments, I guess it’s inevitable that as adults people will still seek the thrill of venting their spleens on the sly.

 

As a Scorpio I’m supposedly very vindictive, but I cannot think of a single time in my life when I’ve taken revenge on anyone. Of course, when someone hurts you, you will fantasise about getting them back. Yet whenever I’ve been pissed off enough to try to come up with some scheme  I’ve decided that living well and rising above whatever has been thrown at me is much more dignified. Then I can revel in basking in the glorious sunshine of my unrivalled superiority. Ha.

 

But, as was once said in My Name is Earl, ‘Karma doesn’t have hands’, and there are plenty of people out there who make it their business to make sure the gloves come off. Revenge stories are the stuff of urban legend, such as the infamous story of the jilted wife who hides prawns inside the curtain rails. I read one recently about a girl who covered her ex-boyfriend’s snazzy sports car in bird seed so that it got pecked and scratched and covered in shit(I’m not sure how plausible that really is, but hey). Maybe I never take revenge because I lack imagination.

 

So, lo and behold, I come across a website called Sweet Revenge. Yes, there are people capitalising on the dispersion of simmering anger. They say the concept came up in 

 ’an amusing family conversation about what kind of revenge services could be offered to a divorcee or jilted lover and our collective experiences soon gave birth to the idea that Sweet Revenge is something everybody should enjoy’.

 

Ok then, I think. Show me what you’ve got.

 

So I go down the drop down menu and find what I imagine is the biggest trigger for vendetta, ‘Broken Relationships’. And I find an email for $2.95, to be sent anonymously, with the following words:

 

Ex Lover

I thought you were the world’s best lover, the

thought of you now makes me shudder.

The best place for you is in the gutter.

 

 

HELLO!!????? Earth to Sweet Revenge.com.au!!!!! How old are you, exactly?

Surely if you’ve been dumped you should have more hurtful and bitter words to say face to face? And how exactly is it anonymous? Unless your bloke was the Earl of Rochester he is very likely to know which one of his ladyfriends might have a chip on her shoulder.  Maybe I’ll find something more substantial in the ‘Friend or Foe’ category. It isn’t to be:

 

You suck

You would suck on a dummy

so stop and think, be

upfront and say what you think.

 

 

 

Better luck in the ‘Personal Hygiene’ section? Hmm:

 

You Stink!

Your body odour has to go,

so here is a message to let you know

The smell is worse than you think

your lack of hygeine (sic) makes you stink.

 

 

 

PUH-LEEEEEEEASE!

Look up the definition of Revenge in the dictionary. And check your spelling while you’re at it.

 

 

Rough Around the Edges

I’ve been keeping myself very busy trying to consume my own weight in food and booze over the past couple of weeks, so that as the days progressed and the scales went up the task became slightly harder. Well, life is about challenging oneself, is it not?

 

Midst the twinkle of tinsel and fairy light drunkenness I forgot to tell you all the hilarity that ensued from my mugging fiasco. They say every cloud has a silver lining…

 

Two days after being robbed I was invited to Wandsworth Police Station where I was to look at a database of mugshots of people arrested in the area who fitted the description I provided in my statement. Yep, I was going to be given the opportunity to have a good look at my neighbouring criminals. What an honour!

 

I arrived at the station at my alloted appointment time and was directed to a little room where a CID officer uploaded 750 plus photographs on a laptop. I was given a cup of coffee and freedom to browse, and man, I wish I could have kept some of these pictures to share… Despite the seriousness of the setup, I split my sides with laughter.

 

Turns out that my local thugs are a VERY ugly bunch. Pig ugly. Ugly to the point of comedy. Ugly to the point you can almost sympathise with their decision to turn to crime. So ugly that being punched up by rival gang members might improve their facial structures. Maybe Walt Disney visited his local coppers while researching his fairy tale villains?

To be perfectly fair, to every 200 or so faces there was a fitty, which made me ask myself ‘Why?! What are you doing associating yourself with this collection of aesthetically-challenged grubby bastards?!’

 

But the entertainment didn’t stop there: There was the guy with hair like Krusty the Clown; the guy who posed like he was Paris Hilton; the ones who tried to look really tough; the ones who were laughing or crossing their eyes… And the one guy who was ASLEEP for his mugshot. Absolute quality. And to top it all off, there were two guys in there who once worked with me at an office! I nearly fell over backwards!

 

The police officer assured me that these were not necessarily all criminals, that a lot of them would have been arrested for minor offences and released without charge. So I’m pinning my hope onto that hypothesis.  Hmmm… Blackmail, anyone?

 

Anyway, just as I thought I’d lost all faith in humanity, it turns out that a humble binman found my handbag and most of its contents in a public rubbish bin a few blocks from my house and handed it over to the police.  I am soooooo grateful. It is now being dusted for fingerprints and has given the investigators hope of finding cctv footage of the car as we now know which route they took.  THERE ARE NICE PEOPLE IN THE WORLD AFTER ALL!