Last week on the tram, there was a fat woman with crutches shouting abuse into her phone. Nine years together and you leave me. I want compensation. You say that I am paranoid and schizophrenic but you should be the one on medication not me. Later in the week I was flying out of Amsterdam and there was a crazy, young guy with a dodgy bandage wrapped round his arm, probably hiding drugs in it, I thought. He looked like he on speed, bouncing up and down as we waited in the queue to go through security. His t-shirt had “I don’t do drugs, honest” written on it. I wonder what happened when he arrived at his destination. The plane was full of obese people with fat ears; I mean how can your ears get fat. I was surprised that the plane could get off the ground.
Liam Mor's Blog