Street Incest

The last two posts were a little depressing (like the new James album - now that's depressing), so have something a bit more upbeat.

I've spent the majority of the last two days with my friends - days off OWN ME, it seels - and last night we went for a curry to celebrate the return of my hairy friend - who is now less hairy - from the USA, where he's been sweeping and mopping a theme park for three months in exchange for sex with his girlfriend, who lives there. Desire makes people do strange things.

We piled out of our local Indian restaurant, tightening our belts. While my hairy friend decided where to do next, my extremely thin scene girl friend spotted some other extremely thin scene girls she knew, so off she ran - with one of those squeals that girls seem to be able to produce - to greet them in the customary fashion. While the other 11 of us milled around, the young raver gave a sly look out of the corner of his eye. One of the girls - a short brunette - gave a merry wave, not only to the thin scene girl, but to the young raver as well. He grinned to himself as we all started generally milling towards the direction of a pub we sort of like.

"Hey," he nudged the thin scene girl, "why didn't you - introduce - me to your friend? I'm always up for meeting new girls - you know..."
"I didn't need to introduce you," the thin scene girl smiled.
"But she was kinda fit," insisted the young raver. "Next time, you put in a good word for me, right?"
"Okay, okay, I will," she said.

Then she paused.

"One more thing, though... why didn't you recognise your sister?"

We didn't stop laughing for three hours afterwards.