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2007-04-07 - 1:40 a.m.
So I figured, in order to make my life complete, I needed a Fez.
Yeah, I know......
A couple of years ago I drove past an old VW Campervan being driven down the M6 by a bloke who was the spit of John Belushi in a fez. Perhaps I was halulcinating, I mean, I WAS driving an old VW Beetle at the time and they are pretty fume-y so god only knows what I really saw. Still, he looked as cool as fuck and I wanted to reverse back and stare at him for a bit. Of course I didn't 'cause that would have caused motorway chaos and the Belushi-alike would have looked terrified and the entire image would have been spoiled somewhat. Anyhoo, that was then..
What bought that image back into my head was a link provided by an internet pal of mine, leading me to somewhere providing foil hats for the disearning lunatic (which was a bit judgemental of them if you ask me). They have noticed that the foil hats of those wishing to stop THE MAN from reading their thoughts were pretty shit to say the least (I know MINE was) and so they worked hard to make some pretty cool foils for people. I was imediately drawn to the foil fez complete with tassel. I then, from that moment on, KNEW I must have a fez for whenever I drive the beetle. Last week I needed a fez - I knew I MUST have a fez and so to ebay I trundled.
Well damn if I didn't win a fucker! What have I done?
.....and damn me for not checking that the Tunisian Fez Seller took paypal 'cause he doesn't and now I've got to go ALL the way into the bank and ask for an international money order for a piddling few quid to pay for a stupid fucking hat that I really don't need and I'm quite frankly going to look a complete wanker in. I've never seen a girl in a fez. What the fuck's the matter with me? I mean, Wednesday I went flying through the air in front of real people and landed on my bleedin lunch. My knee and ankle were covered in blood, and for what reason? I was wearing stupid feckin CLOGS. A clumsy be-fezzed clog wearer in an old orange '72 Beetle. No wonder I ain't got a fella - somewhere down the line my 'taste' circuits broke down and I went wrong.
Oh, and I've got plasters on my knee and ankle like I'm some 4 year old brat. I frighten myself sometimes. God only knows what'll happen when I take my mother on a Scottish road trip (rawk 'n roll, man!) at the end of the month.2 comments so far