get this monkey off my back

It seems I have a problem. I don't want to be happy and this brutal disposition is preventing me from take chances that might lead to happiness. Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.

Yes, BPP got roundly told off by a spurned suitor last night – outside a hip-hop karaoke bar in Soho. (anyone else ever marvel at the sentences you find yourself uttering at times??)

What is with this new breed of loser that doesn't just gracefully bow out when we give them the polite, well established f-off lines? Are they sadists? Do they actually want us to say what's on our mind - which is generally something to the effect of "You look like a monkey and it'll be a cold day in Madagascar before I'd play with your banana". I just don't bloody understand why there has to be this big conversation where I have to provide REASONS for why I find them unattractive. There's no spark, kick, connection – WHATEVER. Doesn’t it all simply boil down to the fact that something chemical in me doesn't like something chemical in you? I can't help it... at least I don't think I can. I guess you can't really discount all the psycho-somatic, f-ed baggage... Ahhhh! What am I doing?! Monkey boy is NOT going to make me freak out! (I don’t say this to be cruel people, the parallels between him and our primate cousins are disturbing)

At least the big scene is finally over. I’d been putting it & him off for far too long (hang on, shouldn’t THAT in itself been a bit of a CLUE for the muppet!) but absurd as it may seem, I’m not entirely comfortable the idea of monkey boy hating me. It really, really didn't end well - storming off scene and everything. (that would be him btw – bloody hysterical woman-monkey)

Oh yeah, and Vish is staging some stupid school boy intrigue at the moment as well. Soooo can't be ar$$ed even writing about it – after his whole numbchuck/nunchaku diatribe that boy will NEVER see me naked.

Very, very, very, tired of it all.