Sinister: is there something you're not telling me?

[Marcus Omond]

well?  do i have a sign on my back saying 'weirdoes walk this way'?  what is
it with me and london?  i mean, the city is tops, but all these crazy folk
that come up and start talking to me...

i was on the bus on the way to the allotment today, dreaming about picking
zuchinni flowers and shallow frying them in light olive oil, before adding
them to my freshly prepared cep tortillini, when a bloke with a quiff the
size of egypt (i've always associated quiffs and egypt - not sure why) and a
big bad badge saying 'IRA' came up and sat next to me on the bus, with his
matching anorak, shirt, trousers and shoes.  i moved up (as one does) and he
seemed to ignore the free seat i'd offered him and squeezed up as tight to
me as he could.  i ignored him.  then he looked at me in a very pointed way,
and coughed.  in my ear.  at point blank range. very loudly.  four times.

well, this was a bit much, so i squeezed further into the corner in order to
get away from this obviously deranged creature.  but did this work?  oh no.
he then proceeded to turn his head and try to read what it said on the front
of my jumper, out loud in an amplified voice.  at least, that's what i
assume he was doing - the writing's in japanese, and so i must confess i
have troubles reading it myself.  but he wasn't deterred, oh no.

in the end i got off five stops before my one, and walked the rest of the
way to the allotment - better that than him ask me what i thought of the
IRA, hear my allegedly posh accent and beat the shit out of me.  actually, i
think i get posh-bashed even more than i get queer-bashed... seeing as i'm
not really either of the two i suppose it's quite funny.  but not in a haha
way.

it reminded me of the time i was on the tube to heathrow, and in a hurry,
and a bloke with a chestlength beard and handlebar moustache, sporting a
superman t-shirt (you know, the tight fitting ones that make you look like
superman, oh yes they do), a luminous green baseball cap (backwards) with
'NY' emblasoned across it and a pair of skintight red lycra shorts (and
nothing underneath), oh and some jesus sandals came up to me on the tube and
said (i quote) 'you know when the funny thing is and some people don't like
it and there was one time where the man tried to kiss me and i said "no
that's not it you don't understand" and the beautiful ladies they sometimes
say yes but sometimes they don't and can i sit on your lap?'  to which i
replied, 'no, i hurt it playing football'.  which was quite a good answer, i
suppose.  maybe it was lee 'scratch' perry...

was anyone else confused by all that portuguese yesterday?  the only thing i
could work out was that it was all about god and was quoting from the bible
a lot... or i think so.  it might just have been a recipe for cabbage and
potato soup.  does the lovely posh-party envying arantxa happen to speak
portuguese as well as spanish?  or anyone?  because it'd be nice to know
what it all meant.

anyway, that's about it for the moment.  i'll see you all tomorrow at the
betsy trotwood.  i'll be the one having my face eaten :)

love

Marcus XXX




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