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A couple are sitting outside a coffee shop, sipping some chocowhockoteenos underneath a big umbrella or whatever. The guy leans back in his chair,a big foamy moustache upon his upper lip. He wipes away some of the coffee foam with his forearm lazily.

Guy: So there’s this show, right? It’s incredible, its like a pawnbroker shop, yeah? Its so fuckin’ good.

The lady sips from her unusually tall glass gently, with none of the foam lingering on her lips. She is a lady, after all, much classier than the ne’er-do-well who sits opposite to her. Why she finds herself shackled to this man is a mystery, one she occasionally ponders over. One supposes the fear of dying alone trumps everything. 

Girl: That doesn’t sound interesting.

Guy: It is, its so fuckin’ good. You gotta watch it, seriously. 

The guy crumples up the napkins he was given whenever he received his coffee, and starts to rip them up absentmindedly, scattering the pieces all over the table in a terribly irritating manner, a manner that irritates the girl. She puts up with it. He may be an insufferable douchebag, but at least he doesn’t murder people. Right?

Guy: Its fuckin’ incredible. These guys own their own pawnbroker shop in like, Miami or Florida or Vegas or somefink, I dunno, some fuckin’ place. So they own this pawn shop, and people keep coming in to pawn off all their shit.

Girl: I still don’t understand.

She takes another sip of her coffee concoction.

Girl: Pretty sure I asked for cinnamon sprinkles on this.

Guy: Fuck your sprinkles, I’m trying to tell about this thing! So these guys work in this pawn shop, right? And all these other dicks come in and hand over their valuable crap, and the pawnbroker guys pay their money to these guys. You know how pawnbroking works, right?

Girl: I guess. Its not really an area that I tend to pay attention to, y’know? I think this is the first time anyone has ever asked me if I know how pawnbroking works, it doesn’t come up in my life too often. Like, how often does someone ask you if you know how bin lorries work? Not often, right? Because thats a stupid thing to inquire about, and its a stupid thing to make a TV show about. So why would I care about a show about pawn brokers?

Guy: You don’t know what you’re talking about, this show fuckin’ rocks. You watch shows about women who collect shoes, and you watch shows about people sitting around gabbing about other television shows, you don’t know a fuckin’ thing. So anyway, this show, right? The pawnbrokers take all this valuable expensive stuff from these guys, and they pay ‘em a certain amount of money for it. But here’s the hook, the pawnbrokers are all so fuckin’ clumsy!

The guy pauses, waiting for some kind of reaction from his girlfriend. She doesn’t make one, staring into her coffee lazily, gently stirring it with one of those stupid wooden sticks they give you in Starbucks or wherever.

Guy: Thats the hook! They’re all so fuckin’ terrible at their jobs!

He pauses again, waiting for a reaction; the girl signs quietly.

Girl: That doesn’t sound interesting.

Guy: It fuckin’ is! Like this one time, they had this really fuckin’ expensive car, and the pawn guy forked over like, fuckin’ loads of cash for this car, and as soon as they got the car they like, reversed it into the wall of their yard! Bunch of fuckin’ idiots! This other time, they were inspecting a necklace, really expensive piece of kid, you get me? And then this fuckin’ idiot drops the necklace and accidentally steps on it, ends up owing the person a crap ton of money and they don’t even get to sell it on themselves!

The girl rests her chin against her hands, and her elbow against the table, as she looks out into the street and wonders what her life might have been like if she actually followed her dreams, if she actually got an education. If she didn’t spend all day watching bullshit TV programs with her idiot boyfriend.

Girl: I still don’t see the big deal.

Guy: Because they’re so shit at their jobs! They are the worst pawnbrokers ever! Possibly the worst PEOPLE ever! Its so fuckin’ good. One time they got these honest to God Roman coins, and they accidentally handed them out as change in their own shop! Bunch of fuckin’ idiots. I could run a better pawnshop.

Girl: … Thats it? Thats the whole story?

The guy leans back in his chair, confident that he has just relayed a perfect anecdote.

Guy: Fuck yeah. What a bunch of idiots. You gotta see this show, seriously.

The girl sits there, breathing out and in again as humans tend to do, and she wonders if this is what the rest of her life is destined to be. Hanging out with the dumbest man in the universe, watching stupid television shows, and punctuating the watching of shows with the occasional trip to an expensive and shitty branded coffee shop to discuss said television shows.

Girl: Maybe we can watch it when we get home then.

Guy: Fuck yeah, I’ve got them all ripped on the internet, we’re gonna watch them all when we get home! Seriously, you’ll fuckin’ love it.

Girl: Ok…

She sips the rest of her coffee slowly. The guy knocks his cup off the table and leans further back in his chair; he doesn’t care. What’s he got to care about? He’s sitting there with a relatively hot girl who listens to everything he has to say, and she fuckin’ loves it. All he has to do is buy her coffee every once in a while, and listen to her talking about her boring problems or family or whatever. The two of them eventually walk away, away from their seats outside in the mild sunshine. They walk away to their own home, where they can drink cheaper coffee as they watch some kind of terrible television show, and they both mutually and silently agree that they kind of hate each other, but are better off being together, because it makes them so much better than single people. Cause all single people do all day is sit around drinking coffee and watching shitty TV shows.

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I ain’ta scared of nothing, not when I have my Hello Kitty plasters

I ain’ta scared of nothing, not when I have my Hello Kitty plasters

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Makin’ some bootleg Figurehead CDs. Who wants one? 

Makin’ some bootleg Figurehead CDs. Who wants one? 

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I love this so so much. It makes me happy.

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Song from my band, Figurehead. Listen and love or whatever

Source: SoundCloud / Dylan Copeland
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1: Your monkey-butler hasn’t ironed your solid gold trousers in time for the debutantes ball that you have somehow acquired tickets to.

2: You forget to bring your rain-siphoning umbrella for when it starts to rain liquid diamonds. How many times has that happened, am i right folks?

3: You don’t know the proper way to spell carapatsu…karraptz….carra…never mind.

4: The battery on your phone keeps running down within 20 minutes of charging because everybody is constantly phoning you up to tell you you’re great. 

5: Sometimes you find out your dogs have been replaced by sharks that are cleverly disguised as dogs. 

6: You get really hungry on Thursday afternoons, and you don’t know why.

7:Your nemesis picks the absolute WORST times to attack you and try to bring vengeance to his fallen family (ie when you’re walking down the street with your kids, when you’re in Church, when you’re in the middle of a job interview etc)

20: You never really learned how to count.

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Lana Del Ray covering Heart Shaped Box. J’adore.

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Farewell my friend

We had a heck of a ride

Four years, give or take

Do you remember when

We stayed up all night

We got so high

We could touch the stars

And now you’re gone

But not forgotten 

And not forever

We’ll find a way

To collide again

So I’ll wait and see

And I’ll get my wish

Four years, give or take

And four more in the future

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So last night I had the freakiest dream ever. Its not easy to freak me out, so its fucking typical that my own head is the only thing to really do it. Last night I had a dream, where stuff happened. #MartinLutherKing

Seriously though I had a dream. I dream a lot, I love writing them down, but this one was so weird and painful that I almost didn’t want to. I figured it should be documented though, I think the world needs to hear what kind of head I have on my shoulders.

I was waiting in line to go into some kind of leisure center place. Some kinda big building with little offshoot rooms where people could do activities or listen to talks or whatever. I was in line with a bunch of my friends, and I reckon its best if they remain anonymous for this whole piece, cause of what happens later. Anyway me and about 4-5 friends are in line, and eventually we get into the leisure center or whatever, and we get crowded into one little room, quite fancily done up. There’s a carpet and shit on the walls and stuff, it looks a little like the kinda office the Dean would sit in and jam on the bass guitar in those college films from the 70s. Animal House and whatnot. And there’s a guy at the front and he’s talking, and its like I’m back in school cause I’m not listening, I’m just joking around with my friends. I’m not really in school though, because I look like I do now, black jeans and long hair and shit. Its not a school thing, it feels more casual, like a poetry jam or something.

Three of my friends arrive late, I can see them out the window. I pop the window open and they come over to chat with me, and poke their heads in, survey the room. They’re late, so eventually they wander over to the door to get in, so they enter through the main doors, run through the hallway and arrive at the entrance to the room I’m sitting in. At that very moment though, as they arrive to whatever class I’m in, its over. Everybody starts milling out, and I greet the friends who arrived late. They arrived with other people, and one of the people my friends are with comes up and greets my friend (who I’m going to call Girl X for the sake of convenience) personally. They joke around, and then the friend hugs Girl X, and lifts her up. Then she (still playfully, with a smile on her face) kind of throws her back, out of her arms. Girl X unexpectedly hits the edge of a door with the back of her head, and hits the floor. 

I remember looking at the expression of the friend, she turned from joyful to horrified in an instant. I looked down at Girl X, lent down to make sure she was ok. She had a look on her face like she was stunned, quite shocked, and she didn’t move. She seemed ok, but a little pool of water or clear liquid had accumulated near her head. In a split second, that clear liquid was replaced by a rapidly increasing pool of blood, and that freaked me out. 

I stood upright again and immediately knew I had to save her. Nobody else was doing anything, they were all shocked, so I pulled my phone out and ran outside to get some reception. I kept pressing 999, but when I looked at the screen different numbers were coming up, like 977 and 937 and stuff. I remember holding my phone in front of face and carefully pressing the buttons myself to make sure I was pressing 999, and yet every time I did these different numbers would come on screen. I threw my phone away in frustration as it was clearly trying to spite me.

Not to be deterred, I turned back into the building and saw an old woman using a phone attached to the wall. An old school phone, one with a landline and everything. She was yapping away, and I made a split second decision that whatever that old lady was talking about, it wasn’t as important as my situation and she’d understand if I explained it. Obviously time was of the essence though, so I didn’t bother explaining it, I just put my finger on the hang up button that landline phones have (what the fuck is that hang up button called? You know when you put the phone on the hook and it presses against a button? Whats the name of the button, people?) and grabbed the receiver off the old lady. She was outraged, so I tried to explain it in a hurry. Either she understood the problem or my head just blocked her out for being irrelevant, as she doesn’t come up again. 

Finally I get through to the ambulance service, and I tell them to come immediately, something bad happened. The woman asks me where I am, ie where to send the ambulance to, and I have no idea. I don’t know where we are, I’ve never been here before. Its somewhere in Lisburn, I think, but I don’t know Lisburn at all. I turn to a nearby man to ask for his assistance, and he keeps throwing words at me. Words that make sense in the context of this dream, but still words that definitely aren’t the name of the place we are. Once again I feel like this man is deliberately avoiding helping me, like my mobile phone. It feels like these two things are actively trying to stop me from saving my friend, which drives me crazy. I become so frustrated that I can’t help my friend, and that nobody else is helping either. I feel so helpless and frustrated, that the world won’t let me do the most important thing I could ever do. Sadness that my friend is dying, grief that she could already be dead by now since I spent so much time fucking around with the phone and ignorant people, frustration and helplessness, so many emotions properly were hitting me at once, and it really really sucked.

And then I woke up, and I have no idea what happened next. But I didn’t like it. So there. Thats how I dream, my head decides to fuck me over completely while I sleep. Awesome. It really was the most horrific thing I’ve ever experienced. I guess you had to be there.

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J’adore