Monday;
Well, where do I begin? I was walking through the city centre the other day watching the live races, when I was stopped by a odd looking old lady. She held my arm and pulled it so I would bend slightly. She whispered something in my ear, and then walked off:
"You shouldn't hold in your emotions, Lad."
After the race had finished, I walked back to the garage where I was greeted by Shiv. He was sat at the old bar, surrounded by our bimbo umbrella girls. Any man has to admit that they were pleasing to the eye, with their tight hot-pants and hardly-anything-there tops, holding the umbrella's, which keep us high-class racers dry in the rain, in the more seductive way. Back to the point. I walked over to Shiv and the umbrella girls immediately brushed against me, walking past in the opposite direction. I asked Shiv what he thought about the old woman and he laughed, he said that I should maybe keep a diary, or a notepad, to keep my thoughts in order. I walked off. Twat.
I reflected on the conversation and thus ended up writing this, in a small notepad I found. I'll write drabbles of stuff that had happened that day, who knows, maybe I'll keep it up, or maybe I'll forget about it.
Onto what else happened today. Earlier on, before I had the incident with the old woman, I was at the Deathdrome. The night before I had fallen asleep in one of the pit-garages and had woken up to a fresh blanket of snow and ice across the entire of Kras City. Oh how I hate the ice, everything, including the races, are pulled to a halt, you can't do anything! Completely insane. I walked out of the pit-garage and onto the ice covered track, where I almost slipped over. I was irritated because I couldn't hop straight into the shower and my hair looked a complete mess. None the less I walked back to my apartment, slowly.
Er. What to write. Ah yes.
When I did get back to my apartment I had my long-awaited shower and washed my hair. Getting out I tided myself up and got dressed in my usual attire. Not sure whether im supposed to write in this much detail. Walking back outside, I saw that there were the grit-workers were trying to discover why the grit wasn't working on the ice. I chuckled to myself. The ice was that bad. I stood there for a few moments, watching them wind out some fuse lines and place them in a grid-like fashion and then sprinkling some kind of powder over the top. I backed off slightly, lighting up a cigarette. One of the men in a plain white suit was the one to light the fuse-line, causing a small sparkling flame to fly around them, lighting the powder as it went. The result was melted ice. Fantastic. Now all they had to do was do the entire track ready for this afternoons race.
I'm not sure what I think of this whole diary thing, maybe I'll carry on. Who knows what will happen in Kras between days. I still don't see much point. There's a rather large race I'm involved in tomorrow, so maybe I'll tell you how it went.
Razor.
Random i know. Well, i might do more of this, i might not. Which is why Razer isn't sure he is going to writie in it . Hehe. Review, maybe even drop me a few ideas of what could happen is his day-to-day life. :)