my god. who the hell are those people in that kew garden photo?! it looks like an extract from some sort of demonic nightmare. it enough to make me bring up my lunch. and whats with my hair? why is it pink? insane. my hair at the momant is a crisp gold. i would have sent my photos to day, but i forgot to bring them with me.
when i saw the picture i let out an insane cackle of loughter, and now people are looking.
as spoken by liv: “Germans have no sense of humour.” i shall now have to fly back to england and kill you with your own shoes. yesterday i loughed so hard that i hurt my stomac quite badly. one day i shall recount the tale of the “bonecarver”, and lo, you to will be cleansed.
this tennis extravaganza sound a bit “hot damn” to me.
tan, i change my flight to the 31st, i hope this meets with your aproval. in fact people are urgeing me to stay evan longer. can you possibly answer the question i have posed many times before. DO YOU HAVE GAI-JIN?!
not much has happened in the last few days becouse i have been working in what seems to be an entirly new level of hell.
the tenth level of hell-orange wood.
an all pervading stench of year old armpit serounds you, demons continually belch garlic breath into you face. poisen is in thick blinding clouds in the air, choking you and making you eyes bleed. the “poor” suffer in this level, eternaly moving to the will of an overseer and aloud no respite. carcogen roam this circle, ever serching with their flaming eyes.
i didn’t like this much so i quit today. huzah! i feel like a new man.
right i am off to gather more fruit from the everlasting money tree known as a “bank” and unto the super market i shall go. tonight i shall craft a meal of such splender as to send the taster insane with delight. not a bad thing i say.