Friends Only

I'm home in Bristol. And in a shit mood too. Which is weird enough in itself because I hardly ever feel this way. I rang my friend Brad, who apparently rang...everyone. And I finally just turned my mobile off because if one more person rang me to ask if I saw someone die, or if I got burned or if I was scared or if I saw Spectre, I was going to scream at them.

It wasn't fascinating. It wasn't fun, or amazing OR an experience I feel like sharing. I'm not going to whip out pictures or show a slide show of it like you would a vacation. It was a fucking tragedy. And all people care about is feel like they have personal involvement in it. Now I'm just imagining people claiming me as their 'best friend' because I was there and somehow in their minds that makes them more special. Oh, and conspiracy theories thought up by idiots are fantastic too.

"Do you think he like....tried to kill you all?!"

NO FUCK OFF!!! That one I did scream.

Monday is going to be fun. And I miss morphine. A lot. I didn't know so many things could throb. Er...you know what I mean.

Thank GOD Jane is coming to see me this weekend. Ring the house phone, Jane, if you want to talk. I might flush my mobile.