RIP to the girl you used to see

before the death LOOK a raspberry

god, what a fucking stinker of a day. work was shit, i had a phonecall that lasted an hour which sapped every ounce of emotion from my hollow shell and joan rivers is still dead. it's not been a great few days but d:ream told me that things can only get better so here's hoping, eh? i don't have much else to talk about without using this post to vent every trickle of fury i have inside of me today so instead we'll talk about dead people because that might make us feel better about life. okay? okay.

"oh fucking hell, it's emo hour" GET OUT WHILE YOU CAN

out of my 19850987 pet hates, people jumping on the "omg dead celebrity" tweet/status bandwagon is definitely up there with the best of them. any death is sad, that's the black and white of it, but mrs rivers and the deity that was robin williams really hit home. robin's was a tragic tale of depression and misunderstanding: a harsh reminder that those who have the bravest faces may well be suffering inside. there was an outstanding article i read on rolling stone about how the mind of a comedian works (long story short, it's very fast and it poses the question "what happens when they stop thinking about everything funnily and their mind goes in reverse?") and it's still resonating within me today so i urge you to read it. props to dana.

but whilst williams' was a very different story to rivers', both are still wholly upsetting. i've always idolised our joan - she said "i succeeded by saying what everyone else was thinking" and i think that's true. maybe sometimes she was a slither too controversial but nobody's a saint and that woman was funny. who doesn't love an 80 year old laughing about her menopause and gravity-phobic boobs? she was a hard bitch and would've probably loved for us to laugh at her expense and celebrate her life. whilst i might not be ready to read the reams of hate over on twitter, i can say that i've no doubt she lived a very fruitful life and she's left behind quite the legacy. what a champ.

the lamppost wasn't straight...

anyway, enough of that. i walked home from work today and, after hours of absolute fury and bitten tongues, i saw that someone had put potted plants on the stairs that i walk down every fucking day of my life. it took minuscule effort but it looked good so i took a picture and it's here for you to see. it was a nice little reminder that people are thoughtful and flowers make things look nice. every cloud, guys (i'm clutching at straws here. hopefully loads of packages arrive tomorrow so that'll be a laugh)

but "what the fuck is that song?"

rather appropriately it's "thinking of you" by kitty pez. everything about this song is upsettingly relevant right now. this version is "pre fame" ergo a bit better than normal perry and very very raw. you're welcome.