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me: after posting a note through my neighbour's door, about two months ago
Made it, too.
that's just running
I can't remember :(
that makes me sad.
Nothing like the feeling of properly legging it.
last week when your dad came home early
saw a guy I was getting it on with and I wasn't looking hot enough so I legged it
in to my mum's neighbour. you don't need the conversation. pelted it across the street and dukes of hazzardsded it*...into my mum's car. i can't drive.
but one time some mates and I went out drunk to a dark, scary place we probably shouldn't have been. Anyway, we 'heard' a cough and freaked out and ran away again.
Well, they ran... I stumbled due to not being able to even walk in heels.
It's been two months, did they ever respond?
asking him nicely to fix a squeaky hinge on one of his doors. outcome: angry note in reply, my flatmate read it before I did but neither of us have mentioned it. made me look like a bit of a dick.
kind of feel a bit silly now but he's fixed his door so hey ho.
and who has squeaky hinges these days? I love WD40-ing all the hinges so they open and close with silky smooth silence.
said you should use butter instead of WD40. He justified it but I can't remember what his justification was. Sorry.
dirt-repellent bike chain lube is the best I heard.
that's probably why they were angry
Didn't think your dad was going to be back from work that early.
I almost legged it when I realised I was about to get busted for not having a wristband in Glastonbury but made a split second decision in favour of talking my way out of it. Bad call.
I was buying some juice at a newsagents and a wee scrote stuck his head in the door and grabbed an armful off HalfPounder sweets off the display and made off with them, but he didn't get far as I tore after him (involved legging it for about ten seconds on the straight and then sharp turn right into an uphill run for about fifteen seconds, which is what tired the fat wee fuck) and I got him. I reckon he was about 12.
I ended up having to chase him up that steep street up to the Art School while my pal Wee Jo held my bag. the shopkeeper gave me a soft toy out of the window as a thank you, i suspect that might be what's been making me itch since the weekend and not actually sudden onset allergy to easter egs.
Also, havign consulted with Jo, we'rte pretty sure he didn't actually charge us for my juice or her fags, as we were just about to hand over teh cash when the wee tyke struck. this now makes it sounds lie we set up said wee tyke. We are not that desperate for a free toy/ sore knee from hill sprints.
We are born to run, built to bolt. I love it. If it starts rainign on the way back form anywhere I just start bolting as if i'm being chased. Love it.
if I'm not wearing trainers/a sports bra
but they are extremely confortable and I was worried, in that split second of getting off my marks, that if I kicked them off they'd be lost to sauchiehall street forever, and i'd have to walk home barefoot (no way wee jo would give me a carry coalbag as she's only 5 foot.)
I also have a tendency to hurt my ankle if I run without giving myself a day's warning.
Seriously weak ankles, even running for the bus can hurt them
aged circa 17 from a mini cab to dodge a fare of about £40 with three mates. got chased up an alley with the driver shouting "I've got a knife and I'm going to kill you". May also have involved hiding in a bush too long ago and too drunk to remember
Little shits in Kentish Town shooting firework rockets at people. Was walking up the road when a load of rockets came flying at me so I just turned around an ran away.
Just made myself very angry thinking about that.
actually think it might have been when i was in school, when a few lads from the local rough (state) school chased me, presumably because i went to a nice (private) school :)
when I heard your dad coming through the front door early