…rotund, ruddy-faced businessman

Jenny Cohen – Highgate

I got chatting to this rotund, ruddy-faced businessman on the tube yesterday. He seemed quite pleasant, his name was Brian. We talked about work, commuting and what we did as careers. He was a little bit pissed and said he was looking for a new job, he reckoned he was pretty employable.

I wasn’t so sure about that. He had massive nostrils, and his tie was tragic. I asked him what stop he was getting off at and pretended I lived around there too. I followed him home and killed him. I look forward to reading about it in the Metro.

Laser Dick’s back

Tim Randolph – Uppingham School

Just getting to the end of the hols, and who should I bump into, but Laser Dick, Bocker Bakewell’s mate. He didn’t recognise me initially, cos he was bombed. Turns out he’s found god now, so he was kind of distracted. He took a shine to my little brother Angus, so I let them get on with it.

A couple of hours later I’m walking back from the beach and see Laser and Angus just squatting by the beach track simultaneously doing dumps and giggling… Dad and Julie would go mad if they new, but they’re too busy perving over each other.

Mixing it up

Darren – Stoke

I met a gay yesterday. He seemed amazingly normal, but that’s how they get you.

Forget the planet, I’m a chuffing pop star.

Dan Power – Great Britain

Look, I don’t have much time on my hands, I’ve got pictures of fans to look at, I’ve got cars to drive, Al Gore to hate, Clarkson to love and golf to play with my friend and producer, Rudolph Crisps. But what I do need to take time out to tell you is, I’ve raised my game – I’m now a pop star. I’ve released a single to explain how important energy wasting is to me. It’s funded by me, featuring me and celebrating me and my glorious lifestyle. It’s called Energy Wasting Day and it’s awesome. Check it out soon – I’ll wack a link in when it’s ready – in a matter of days. Just get me to number one, and enjoy the dancing girls while you’re at it.

I’m off to check out the final cut. Watch this space you fellow planet bummers.

Christian Bale has a kind of Christ-like quality

Lucy Walker – Milton

I get nervous very easily. I nearly heave at the thought of confrontation. I stay alone because the thought of kissing a boy makes me feel faint. I’ll never progress at work. I get teased all the time and people just don’t take me seriously. Yes, life is a bit unfulfilling but at least I don’t get properly frightened. 

But now I have an amazing saviour in the shape of Christian Bale. Just like Jesus died for our sins, Christian “died” for my inability to stand up for myself. I have listened to his famous tirade everyday for two  weeks now, and every time I feel better, stronger and generally more alive.

Maybe one day I’ll stand up for myself too. And maybe one day he’ll kiss me and I can say “WHY DON’T YOU FUCKIN’ UNDERSTAND” to him.

He went mad so we don't have to

I’ve started eating meat

Well, a lot has happened until I last posted. Risky Bizkit really narked me off on Valentine’s day by bringing this big heifer, Caroline, on our date saying he thought I’d be pleased to meet her because they go way back, blah blah blah. What a bitch. She’s been a vegan since forever, and was apparently a saboteur since the 80s. So what. As far as I’m concerned that just makes her old. In fact it pissed me off sooo much I decided to punish Risky.

(not before a last ditch attempt to seduce him by fiddling playfully with his thai-dyed T-Shirt).

So when they were ordering their salads and wine I went right ahead and ordered chicken. Risky tutted and said to the waiter: “Is it free range” and I said “I don’t care, give me some veal too”.

I then left those losers to it and hooked up with this guy at The Mechanical Fist – a biker bar round the corner. He’s called Clive of Coventry and he wears furs from head to foot. His face is like a beautiful wise and withered ox. I think I love him.

Clive of Coventry - My Love

I had a sex

Frederick – Kings Cross

It was Valentines day. I saw a girl and had a sex with her, yes. It was very nices and she enjoyed it because i was very clever in the beds. We kissed it and enjoyed it the raptures.

I met a guy called Laser Dick

Tim Randolph – Uppingham School

I had a wicked privy weekend. I told my housemaster I was going home to my parents in London, but actually went off with Bocker Bakewell who left two years ago. Such a good man. He can’t be arsed with Uni so he just hangs out doing draw and getting pissed with a bunch of lads from the village. His parents are never around so I went to his gaff. 

It’s a pretty nice place, a bit nouveau, but so what. They’ve got a pool and stables: the works. We got totally stoned and drank some beers, then some of his mates came round, wicked guys. The coolest was this guy who calls himself Laser Dick, on account of its accuracy. I didn’t get what that means exactly but still, it sounds pretty cool. He had this hilarious local accent, so funny. In fact Bocker seems to be developing one now a little bit. We got mashed and Laser Dick, Bocker and I went out to Leicester and hit the pubs. I had to vom but kept it from them, close one.

Following day we wandered around had another spliff then bocker dropped me back in time for dibs on Sunday night.

Got a double peewee tomorrow morning. Nice. Then English, and double Lat. Things could be worse. Hopefully get out of the house match if I play my cards right. It’s only against Highfield and they’re shit.

Right. Off to the bedder. If Perkins is snoring again, I’m going to lamp post his bed the little shit.

I had to get a job

Steve

I had to get a job. It’s awful. Old wifey-boobs said I needed to get out of the house and off the booze. What a pain. Although at least that means I can get away from Harry. He’s been looking at me weirdly for a while now, and it was beginning to freak me out.

So here I am, working my arse off at a wine merchant. Friend of a friend of a friend or something gave me the job. It’s not bad really. He’s a bit of a boozoir.

Christmas is coming and I had to flog a boy-elf

Simon Christmas – Lapland

Well it’s that time of year again and it hasn’t been easy. It’s been a real drag to be honest. Brian, my partner of five years and two months, has been a real help over the past few years now he’s got the hang of the ordering etc. but this year he’s being a real pain. He’s “got the flu” and has spent three days wandering around with a duvet wrapped around him, emitting wet tissues at the most crucial stage of gift acquisition and elf management. So I was rushed off my dainties, and ended up having to flog a young boy-elf for insubordination.

Now if you know me, I don’t like to dish out punishments. Famously during the summer work outing to Caracas (yes, generous I know), all the elves were having a whale of a time, then one of them commits what’s best described as assault and battery; I was the first to turn a blind eye. However, when it’s a matter of weeks before Christmas and you’ve got all the children of the world waiting for your bountiful sack to exude its cheery contents, you simply HAVE to run a tight ship.

I’m just wondering if I can keep on doing this every year forever. It’s lonely in my Grotto, and frankly it was a miracle that Brain stumbled in after being separated from one of Bruce Parry’s TV adventures. He wanted me to help him get back but I eventually persuaded him to stay here with me. I wish I hadn’t now, the ungrateful little queen.

On top of the loneliness (no, elves don’t count as company – they smell odd, and are generally racists) there’s the sheer hassle of my job. Think of how much work your Christmas shopping is, and then multiply it by billions. That’s what it’s like being Simon Christmas (or, Santa or whatever you lot call me).

There, now do you pity me? Around four billion presents every year and growing.

I’m thinking of retiring to Greece, and ditching my red furry robes for a grey thong, so deal with it.