The Bronx

So I mention my housemates rather a lot. I think it’s because, well, because I see them – I wouldn’t say every day, but I see them a lot. I’m not at the house much apart from for my quiet days that my therapist suggested I have. These are two or three days in a week where I don’t go out to get completely pissed, piss anyone off, break anything etc etc…

Our house is super-awesome, it’s a massive Victorian house and my room is so big that four double beds could fit in it and you could still do Britney dance routines all around them.

So it’s basically perfect. Apart from the fact that it’s in the Bronx.

Eugh. Both my friend’s cars have been broken into. I really hate stealing from other human beings, it’s so gross that people aren’t allowed to own nice things that they’ve worked hard for because people wanna trash them mostly for no apparent reason, because there’s nothing inside to steal.

Can’t you just steal from big corporate shops instead?


Anyway, I woke up the other morning and I was in my zen area applying a hair mask and noticed id been the target of a drive-by shooting.

I was so happy with this!

The Bronx

(It was bin day as you can see from my neighbours on the “semi-detached side of the road” commoners, we are detached)

Anyway I was like, wtf someone’s tried to shoot me. I’m basically 50 cent but a female, not as ripped and I’m not gonna mention it every single time I talk to someone like he does. I’ll just do this one blog and probably forget about it, because I’m not really a dweller, ya know?

Yeah don't worry mate, not you.

Yeah don’t worry mate, not you.

Firstly I thought that there’s only really two people who dislike me, but even then that’s not even a dislike, I’m actually their foreplay like they need me to get off so it can’t have been them.

My second thought was my neighbour, because I’d woken up to texts from him. Maybe he was trying to get my attention by throwing stones at my window? Which is really kinda cute and romantic and also rather psycho and desperate because it would’ve meant he then resorted to the use of a pellet gun to get my attention when pebbles weren’t enough to awaken me from my slumber.

Then I thought about my latest trap dealings. But it couldn’t be that. We are all on good terms. Aren’t we traps?

Then I spent ages thinking about all the people that really really hate me, but that would’ve gone on forever. Plus the majority of people that hate me are people who I don’t even know or have forgotten about.

Good advice, sound advice

Then I thought maybe I’ve given someone some bad advice here but my advice has been great. I haven’t advised anyone badly enough they’d wanna do a drive-by.


We discussed it on the house group. The man of the house wanted to know the extent of the damage. And I was like, well it’s a double-glazed window and it didn’t penetrate the inside bit of glass. Then as the discussion carried on I tried to get the word penetrate in as much as possible. Because it’s a great word and I’m immature.

Later I discussed it with the psycho from here:


and I began to rap “can everybody just stop getting shot?!” and he knew who sung that. He didn’t know the year which is fine, but I was super impressed with his knowledge. Then we listened to it and made out. Only joking we didn’t make out because we weren’t 12.

Anyway one day I’m hoping to make enough money in order to not live in the Bronx. But just like Jenny from the block, I won’t forget “I’m still lostitgirl from the block”.

Failing that hopefully I’ll meet a nice guy who lives somewhere chic, preferably a castle and I can live there, and like Jenifer Lopez, fully forget my hood past.

Bye from the block.