On a train to Newcastle from King’s Cross.Snapshot_20091010Been a mental morning. I got far too sweaty and stressy gallavanting from Balham which is sarrrf of the river all the way to Kings Cross. I met some nice french people who helped carry my bags and talked to me for a bit. Incidently one of them lived in Newcastle which was cool. They seemed interested in the whole Journalism malark and I was pretty interested in the fact that they were French and not wankers.

They are actually the most recent of a run of French people that I have met recently (lots of recents here) and kind of got to know and I genuinely think that in the past I have probably been a bit harsh and most French people are actually *gulp*…alright. I would like to use this, my first propper blog to apologise to the French. I was being harshly stereotypical.

People that aren’t that nice however, the staff and general wanky people of Kings Cross. For one of the biggest and most famous trainstations in the country it is probably the most poorly organised and staffed. Staff were not helpful, looked at me like I was shitting chickens when I asked where the platforms were, manhandled me a bit when asking for tickets and ignored me when I asked them what time my train was or if they would move out of my way etc. Unpleasant miserable people.

A woman in Kings Cross also barged past me and knocked my new laptop on the floor. Luckilly it still works. She also, in the process, ripped a bag that I was carrying. Which later at the worse possible moment completely broke and left me standing on Platform 8 with all of my things on the floor. It was shit. Subsequently I had to pile up all my things on top of my suitcase and have now discovered as I pass Peterbrough that my filofax full of contacts and my new, brand bloody new unread copy of GQ with topless Lilly Allen pictures are missing. This is very shit indeed. Hopefully King Cross’s lost and found staff won’t be as incompetant as the rest of them and find it for me and look after it untill I can reclaim it somehow. Failing that if any trampy people find it and steal it I hope you have fun harrasing my Z-list celebrity associates and ruining my life. Cheers.

Anyhoo, bored and stressed of this for now. I will post more about my 3 weeks at NME later and I’ll also try and keep all future entries from being this self absorbed and miserable.  I hope you will come back and read again.

Your beautifull and looking good and I love your shiny face.

Take care and enjoy your day/evening of X-factor crazyness! You mental case you.

Jordan

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