There's a feeling I get when I look to the West, and my spirit is crying for leaving

[Note: this was written in my notebook on the plane to Europe on the 3rd of June]

Sitting on the plane right now, damned if I know what time it is...shit. At home it's 11:53pm and midair it's...no clue. Either way, sun's on the rise outside. I think we're over Scotland or the North Sea...done the Atlantic Crossing. All crashes from here on aren't going to be as light and fluffy as water-based ones are.

I'm fucking wired. Coffee > *. Hoooooooooo-boy. Combine my caffiene high, my already shitty writing skills and slight turbulence, and this page looks to be written in goddamn sanskrit.

Oh, whee. Breakfast is served.

Oh, whee. I can't fucking eat any of it. Cereal, cereal bar, and milk? I'm lactose intolerant. Pulp-free orange juice? I have citric acid issues. Oh, look, crackers! Wait, wait..."crackers with cheddar cheese." So, what's for breeakfast then? More coffee.

I have just noticed my peculiar pen. Purple gel pen. Super-fucking flamboyant pen. I shall name it Prince.

How I wish I had a laptop. That way I could watch non-shitty movies and hear my own - good - music here. Shit, two episodes into Midori no Hibi and I'm hooked. I'm compelled to draw a special picture.

(edit: will scan it when I can)

Why the shit did I wear my Cons on the plane - again? Feet expand on planes, idiot.

Bah



Current mood: hungry, over Scotland
zb:out

1944

We landed in Amsterdam and promptly got our car and fled (I know, I know...). We got to the Peugeot dealership and got our keys in the most sketchy place. The "office" had 2 tables, a Pepsi machine, an odd number of chairs, and enough cigarette butts to fill a grave. The Dutch...strange fucking folk, they are.

So, off we went. I passed out, missed Belgium (word to my homie Pras), arrived in Calais, and got a hotel. In a nutshell. Went for a walk to the beach to see Ben (Dover), saw dick all. One of the best things in France is their pastries, one being their beignets (doughnuts):. They rock the Casbah. Had ourselves a fancy dinner, then I had the shittiest sleep of my life. Worst. Futon. Ever. I kept rolling to the middle. Back was so sore. Bah, sleeping on the floor tonight.



Current mood: sore
zb:out


Newest post begins....NOW

June 9, 2004

Zoso
Age: 19 +1

ZOSO LEVELLED UP!


...I'm twenty now, and I play far too much Final Fantasy Tactics.

20 eh? Wow...what the hell have I done thus far? I've become the best damn oxygen thief in the world, that's what.

Since last post I've done the following:

-left calais
-went to Normandy
-stayed in Rouen for 2 days
-forgot my booze in Calais
-went BACK to Calais
-drove to Blois
-drove to Biarritz
-going to bed

Ahhh, I'm sick of these keyboards. MERDE SUR LA KEYBOARD FRANCAISE.

Rock en France. A demain, tout le monde. Gad my French sucks.

And a man just farted next to me.


Current mood: s
zb:out