Protest

I'm very rude...

And my rude language, unfortunately is in German, I hate myself when I start shrieking, especially...in German...

Well, about twelve years ago, (ok, ten. oh! eight years ago!) I went to the West End, with my sister and a cousin, this was when I got stoned, rifling through the kitchen and under sofas, to find odd little pieces of compressed marijuana...When we entered Trafalgar Square, we saw a protest, against University Fees, we got free red t-shirts, which I still have, and placards, we carried ourselves all through to the Strand, making or own protest, long after it finished; having our photos taken by Japanese tourists...It was a small meeting,

and while I climbed up onto a black lion, they were organizing below, I threw a cigarette end, down into the collection of wooden signs...a woman got angry with me...

"OI! Juden Zwitter (dyke)!! Who are you? A messy bitch! Don't tell me what!! You're FAT!!"

And.

That's it. It makes me think about locals.

This week, I've been awful. Schtum...