Monday 10 November 2008

R.I.P



Apparently the old adage; don't leave your things with other fuckers, is true.

Yo I know this is a little late but it's still more valid than ever.

These were my kickers. They were amazing. We shared a good time, albeit a short time, but a good one non the less. They were the reason people stared. Then one day I left my precious beauties in someone's van. Purely because it was the only option. We shall call this person Mr X, because I feel Mr Fucker may offend some. Hopefully him, if he ever reads this obituary.

Cutting a long story short; he drove them back to Glasgow from London. He drove away without any indication or warning. He just left. After leaving it up to others, and after that plan failed miserably that other adage, if you want something done right do it yourself, sounded more true than ever.

So we moved onto facebook messages. Message after message after message. Until finally success. He was to send them to me. I left on a trip through the East (of Europe) and came back with high hopes. Luckily I'm not that tall so my hopes didn't have very far to fall.

After more insistent facebook messages, it was revealed that my dunks were no longer. No longer. Some friend had written this 'elusive' van off and in the process killed my beloveds.

So brace yourselves:

hey
its not a money thing.. but i was driving round eastern Europe and the postal service was about as reliable as the people... i then went to house sit in mallorca leaving my car with my friends who then wrote it off... leaving a lot of my things and your shoes in the abandoned wreck... so im terribly sorry but you wont be getting your shoes.
apologies,
adam.

Apparently we were both in eastern Europe.

Figures my shoes were only two steps ahead of me the whole time.

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I am more than prone to monologues; however, this is solely due to the manner in which they compliment a witty anecdote and their ability to resemble concrete evidence when it is so obviously lacking. I often wish I could emulate that aloof character who coolly stands in the corner smiling mysteriously as if she has a secret. However, I fear resisting the temptation to involve myself in other people’s conflicts and responding through body language rather than verbose banter may come across as contrived and arrogant. And, I am not willing to take that chance.

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