chil

Thank god the weekend is upon me, it’s been a bloody stressful week in the office, but despite a lot of grief and losing money left right and fucking centre, I did finally (yesterday at 3.12) finish off this cunting project.

I can now relax and put all my energy into shitting myself about the sale of my flat. Yes, I still have a gaff in Tooting, a place I’ve not seen since the start of September 09, yet am still paying for. Of course I can’t afford this and my rent, any wonga left over from the deposit from my ex-buyers pathetic attempts at procuring said flat is long gone. And I’m fed up to the back teeth from assurances of estate agent and solicitor that I’ll be exchanging ‘within the week.’

In spite of all this I had a thoroughly pleasant evening. After a spot of cleansing I settled down for a mammoth session of a little known Australian series called ‘Underbelly.’ Astonishingly it’s based on real events, it’s highly addictive viewing and worth getting by any means necessary, including offering yourself for cash-money.

A weekend is spread before me like a Turkish rug o’ many colours. Tonight, men come to my place to play on the PS3, and I should imagine, partake in accessories. Tomorrow IC and I fancy a London museum, which precedes a party near Carnaby Street in the evening. Sunday we have a bunch of films to observe with our puffy eyes, I’m hoping to spend most, if not all, of this day on my sofa. Very well, but let’s not jump the gun here, allow me to savour what’s to come with out thinking about fucking Sunday, please.

My ride into work today was irksome but punctuated with charming snapshots of life. The fluorescent lollipop man being thanked by kids as they crossed the road, a woman in a van picking her nose by Liverpool street, office workers in the city trying not to spill hot coffee as they rush to their desks, the thousands of black grey commuters crossing a Tuner-lit London Bridge like an invading army, sour-faced mothers, dead-faced drivers, a biker nodding at me, a baby in a pushchair gawping at Brutta in amused astonishment, accelerate, brake, a wave, traffic-lights-amber, gridlock with no exit, cyclists weaving, roadkill, buses indicating, a finger, full beam, fuck off! beeeeeeeeep!

Lovely.

Chart, choon, have fun mofo’s.

NO. ARTIST SONG TITLE LAST WEEK WEEKS ON
30 AFI Medicate 27 11
29 Fightstar A City On Fire 24 10
28 Muse Undisclosed Desires 26 13
27 The Courteeners Cross my heart and hope to fly 21 5
26 You Me At Six Underdog 29 2
25 Ian Brown Just Like You 20 10
24 The Courteeners You Overdid It Doll NE 1
23 Goldhawks Running Away 18 7
22 Ash Space Shot 19 4
21 Kasabian Vlad The Impaler NE 1
20 Chase And Status ft Plan B End Credits 17 13
19 Phoenix 1901 25 4
18 Mumford And Sons Winter Winds 14 10
17 Massive Attack Paradise Circus 22 3
16 Plan B Stay Too Long 15 4
15 Them Crooked Vultures New Fang 11 12
14 Muse Resistance 23 2
13 Hot Chip One Life Stand 13 5
12 Depeche Mode Fragile Tension 8 9
11 I Blame Coco Caesar 12 3
10 Flyleaf Again 16 3
9 Timbaland/N. Furtado/ SoShy Morning After Dark 6 8
8 Biffy Clyro Many Of Horror 7 6
7 Placebo Bright Lights 5 5
6 The xx VCR 9 2
5 Marina And The Diamonds Hollywood 4 4
4 Editors You Don’t Know Love 2 6
3 Pearl Jam Got Some 3 9
2 Rammstein Ich Tu Dir Weh 10 2
1 Alice In Chains Your Decision 1 5