Friday 26 February 2010

Letters

Hey Drapes,

Now, I freaking love you Crybabies, with the parties, afterparties and hotel lobbies. The times we spend under the red light are some of the most jokes times I'll ever have.

I thought to myself as I lay on the floor in my Doris's arms last Saturday, my face stuffed full of miaow, chimichanga, resin and regretamine, that this is the epitome of contented euphoria.

We're high school hellcats, on our own, and we love being bad 'cause it feels so good!

Recently though, the medicated state of mind I find is overrated. This week just gone, I have had the mother of all comedowns. You know those comedowns, the ones where you're tired all day but prang all night, you cry at Hollyoaks, masturbation's lost its edge and your veins start looking a bit fat and juicy... I know I'm not alone.

To combat this, I propose a detox. I really wanna stop doing as much drugs, but I really need your help with this cos I've got no willpower.

Weed gives me an awful case of daytime somnolence, regretamine does exactly what it says on the tin, that chimichanga sends me so west I end up east and miaow makes me so sleazy, I've often contemplated going up to Robin's room to rape him in the middle of the night. One time, I got so sleazy, I played Cummy Dodger. On my own. And I was hungry.

It's clearly detrimental to the structure of our lives so can we all like, stop for a lttle while and clean up a bit, at least so we're fresh for festival season. We all like each other, yeah? So let's like, hang out in the day? We live in London town and yet we see and do nothing.

We all live a bike ride away from the Rio and the Genesis, independent cinemas that offer extremely reasonable prices. Hell, it's awards season so let's get some good quality celluloid action on the go.

Kathryn Bigelow's The Hurt Locker just won the Bafta for Best Picture and is a shoo-in for the Oscar and that's on all week at Genesis, as is Tom Ford's A Single Man for which Colin Firth won Bafta for Best Male Lead.

For those of you who loved Amelie, Jean-Pierre Jeunet's Mic-Macs is out tonight and next Friday is Tim Burton's Alice in Wonderland in 3D, an Orange Wednesday must (cos 3D costs bares).

Eccles and Marilyn, you both work and play in the art world, tell us what's going on. I just went to White Cube where there's an interesting video installation going on at the minute, the National Portrait has it's competition on and there's some sick photos up, and my mate has a gallery showing at the moment in Weezy Eleven.

There's some sick ballet booking for June (Swan Lake) and some nang-a-lang flamenco at Sadler's Well's. And there's bare theatre for us to get to, which is cheap especially if you're under 26. Sorry Luki, Anita, Freddie, James...

And Robin, hook us up with some Madame Tussaud's shit. London Eye, Aqauarium, whatever, if you can, please. That'd be well safety.

I fucking love you guys, let's not end up a bunch of Heath Ledger's and Brittany Murphy's. Even if Valium is bloody lovely.

Are you a Drape or are you a Square?

King Crybaby (with a tear in my eye) x

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