Well this Jubilee is fucking everything up, royally.

STUPID bank holiday means NO PAY. 

No pay means no money.

No money means... Well it means a lot of things.

No Oyster money which means anywhere to go would have to be cyclable or walkable but British weather (right on cue for street feasts) and no company make going out seem a task and unendurable.

I've watched rainy day Attenborough documentaries to extinction.

There's a roll of B&W in the Canon MC which hasn't been dedicated to anything yet, but deep dull feeling is blocking anything visual. 

No moolah in the bank account means no new festival gear, which means no being an alien and also means shopping lists all run over into each other which means not actually saving any money ever.

No money means no eyeliner. I haven't worn any for over 2 weeks. This is no real biggie, but taking into consideration I haven't gone a week without exaggerated eyelids since year 8 at school, I feel pretty fucking shitty. 

No money means no new washing powder, which means mild eczema will continue to spread. And Fairy was so close to the horizon before.

No money means no food. I have saves on a litre of soya milk annnnd... That's about it.

No money  means no washing up liquid (cos no one else is going to fucking buy any) which means MASSIVE stinky pile of washing up festering in the kitchen will continue to expand and drinking tea out of shit cups. It makes the world of difference.

No money means not even any tobacco. The thought of actually having anything to smoke seems unreal right now. 

I seriously hate bank holiday weekends.

 I just want to be at the next festival!!!

Being friends has gone to shit as well. 

I just can't be fucked with playing stupid games.
The last social event was strikingly fucked up, or was that just me?

Bunch of crazy cats.

Fakkkin' hell.