New Moon Ferocity
Shattered today. Dying, dead, corpsed. Mainly because I decided to give my bedroom a spring clean and it took a million years. However my post minimalist bookshelf is once again clear of crap, breathing, living and looking rather like it should be sitting in the Victoria Miro gallery. I’m wondering about using it as an exhibition space labeled the BEDROOM GALLERY. (I already have plans to show a DEEP BLUE SUBS READMADE and some other relics of 2010 gay London, plus there’s plenty of room for a black bin full of ice and cheap white wine in the corner.) Incidentally, dying for the fact that most of the crap I binned turned out to be extortionate receipts from Balans and The Eagle. Like confetti falling around moi, that suggests I’m married to something… However, judging by the hangovers, it’s certainly not the gay dream… (Or is it).
News flash! Special Sista has some important spellz to weave. While we were gassing this lunchtime over the phone she told me about a new term coined by her and Crème.
‘It’s been totally spinning my mind out in a New Moon Ferocity way.’
‘What is it?’ I asked.
‘Homo Zapien!’
Homo Zapien. DYING!
‘We’ve all been there – a bunch of fierce LIVING angels all hanging out being MAJOR when suddenly you feel the very life force of the group sucked away in a blink of an eye. Why? A Homo Zapien has appeared who is so boring and earnest that they have managed to extract the very party essence from even the most powerful of the Angel Alliance. If any of you have ever come across the now infamous VOMBEAR you’ll fully empathise. Watch out ladies.’
Cue new UMBRELLA TERM!
(PS I’ll get onto VOMBEAR at a later date.)
