Blog:

I was lying on my bed listening to Alice in Chains, it was this song, rotten apple, I couldn't get it out of my head so I went and bought the album.

You guys all know I love rock music, I'm always at the local rave parties wearing that little black lolita dress, you've probably seen me around, I have the pale face, the black lipstick and the streaks of vibrant blue in my hair, you can't miss me!

So anyway, there I was, Ipod playing old rock music, quite happy with my life, then Daz came in, people tend to do that; they don't knock, they just walk straight in to my house, well, I guess they take the phrase 'treat it like a home' seriously.

My cat was lying on the bookshelf across from me, one eye opened and looking out from her bushell of fur, i found myself imagining her standing up and limping around with a little kitty hunch-back, quite the mad scientist, my cat.

Daz walked in to my room, "Come on darling, it's almost time for lunch, let's go shopping in town and grab a bite to eat in subway." subway, he loved subway, he was obsessed with his health, he was so strict on the 5-a-day rule he was practically vegitarian.

"Sod off Daz." I replied in a most polite manner, perhaps a pillow did slip from my hand and hurtle across the room into his face, but I can't be sure, I didn't do it purposefully you see, honest.

He gasped, "Bitch!" and threw the pillow at me, now what did I do to deserve that?

Now let's get one thing straight, Daz isn't gay, he just grew up in a camp of butch men and felt like being different, then promptly on the day of his fourteenth birthday he realised that about ninety percent of those butch men had 'the hots' for him, depite the fact that only five percent of them were gay.

You see, Daz grew up on an army camp, he wasn't the only one, there were loads of other kids but I was the only girl, so it was my clothes he stole when he felt like shocking the commanders, it really irritated them, quite funny really.

Anyway, he was quite clever, he had made this thing you see, that could shove you into a random book and you'd live it like it was real and meet the characters and all that, I dunno, I ain't a scientist, I just moved here from America when I was eleven, and hell it's different, like, in America to be cool you have to follow mainstream fashion, but over here it's the other way round, you have to be as different as you can, they have like a bazillion different names for fashions, and they actually do drink tea over here, and Daz looks disgusted every time I mention coffee, and they wear suits and all the boys go to church every Sunday, they say it's not like this outside the camp, but I betcha it is.

Another thing is the weather, they never shut up about it, you know, they meet someone they haven't seen for years and they're just like, 'so, how's the weather where you're living?'
Not to say they don't have good reason; Daz says you can see all four seasons in one day here 'cos the weather changes so quick, then Jet usually says, 'the four seasons, yeah, spring - rain, summer - showers, autumn - storms, winter - floods.', Jet says he's not a pesimist or an optimist, he says he's a realist and that's why he calls England 'Narnia', no point denying it, he says.

Anyway, Daz got out his weird book thing like whatever, he's not gonna use that on me, duh.
"You need to learn some manners." he says, "Sorry, but it's true.", he's pointing it at me, he's pressing buttons, I'm not scared, he won't use it.
A blue flash, crap! He's using it! Where the hell's he sending me? Where the HELL is he sending me? OH MY GOD!

HORSES! I HATE HORSES!! Where are the police, where?

I run up to this guy, dark hair, darker eyes, a little bowler hat, I grab his coat, "Where are the police? Help, I need the police!" no idea what I'll actually tell the police, but you gotta try, I look down at myself, I look like crap, I'm wearing this long cream and blue dress with full length sleeves and it goes right up to the top of my neck and down to the floor, talk about frigid, must be victorian London, wow what a guess.

This guys still there like, "I am a policeman, what's the matter?" Christ, what an accent, pure British, I like that accent a lot.

"No you can't help me," My heads in a spin, I'm dazed and confused and by the looks of things he's a bit confused too, "I need someone to help me find something." namedly, the future.

"What? A purse? A broach?" he asks, the accent, oh the accent.

"No," I laugh, "It's a bit harder to find than that, maybe even impossible."

Next thing I know the little guy's got a cab, piled me into it and we're driving off to god knows where, my first instinct is to yell things like 'abduction' and 'rape' but then I look at his frigid little face and decide that it would probably kill him just to hear those words, let alone actually doing the things.

The journey is bumpy as hell, like being dragged backwards by a camel through a plastic safari park, I already suffer from travel sickness as it is, this is just going too far!
I grip onto the little guys arm, my head feels like it's been attached to a spinning top, he seems less than comfortable with me gripping onto him like this, oh well, to hell with what he wants, I'm scared and ill so he'll just have to live with it.

"I'm sorry," he says, "I don't know your name, I'm Inspector Lestrade, and you?"

Oh so it's last names is is? That's how you wanna play, I tell him my surname and he's like 'oh, really?' eyebrows raised and voice one notch higher, look at him, trying to stop himself from being judgemental, prat.

Thanks for reading my first blog post guys, if you like it I'll tell ya more.