Forbidden Planet or how today got ruined by the things I love.

Yesterday I went to the London Megastore and honestly, it IS the best shop in london but...
It's kind of annoying how things were properly placed to make me want to destroy the place.
First thing I noticed when I got in, other than the 1up mushroom mints onthe rack at the entrance, was a new small section all devoted to lovecraft and cthulhu. Yes, even a cute bobblehead and a card game. Which makes me think of that bastard. And okay fine, stepawaaay from the cute cthulu, check out the sticker rack, you need a cool one for your ringbinder. First one I notice, and immediatly think of buying, Pulp fiction chibi Jules and Vincent. Keep walking, and the thought "That bastard" comes to mind and youleave it behind.
I mean, I hate that the first thing I went to look for in the comics section was Transmetropolitan, regardless of how much I like the fucking thing. This happened with the "you must read this" sci-fi section, that I thought yep, this is the kind of thing I'd give him. And just about most places in the damn store. Fucks sake.
And then I dreamed about the cunt. Not that kind of dream that you start creating, the kind that actually just pops up when you're sleeping like a baby. He was in portugal, with a hot new blonde girlfriend, and she came to london for a few days for some reason and he asked her to give me a package. Can't remember what it was, but it was something that had been important or an inside joke for the both of us. I remember it breaking me, and me sending something in return. Again, can't remember what. But it really pissed me off.
Then I started thinking , dunno if I was half awake by now, of how he'll find someone thats hotter than me. And so will my friend-we-were-together-but-it-didnt-work-but-thats-alright. Why, you ask? Because it isn't hard.
I'm just pissed off that this all started with me finnally getting out of the house and having fun. That cunt. I can't believe I let that bastard break my heart.

Anyway, I have Uni work still.
Inez Bento, signing off

(and giving that cunt the finger)