Call me "Bruce"

I have been making a few trips to Brentwood to visit Hayley May of late and travel in and around London can be rather taxing on the old purse strings. Upon a long conversation with the 'Ticket Man' at Bearsted station the other day I discovered that both Hayley and I are eligible for a 'Young Persons Travel Card' which gives us several discounts when purchasing train & bus tickets

A W E S O M E !

So I took 2 of the application forms and went on my way

Whist bored on the train (during my ridiculous, long winded, 3 hour commute by train to Brentwood - would have only taken me 35 mins if I had a bloody car!) I was reading over the application form and discovered that you must produce a passport photo of yourself for use on the card.

At Maidstone station they have one of those funky photo booths where you jump behind the curtain that smells like extremely mature and undesired cheese and nanna's old talcum powder, insert the same 2 coins several times before the bleedin thing accepts them, pull an expressionless and slightly constipated face, press the slightly sticky button, try not to blink as the obscenely bright flash tries to blind you and wait an extended period of time while the booth shakes and grinds before out pops a selection of little replicas of you're very own face . . . .  ingenious!!!

Once I finally arrived at the Haus of Halz, I proudly whooped out my shiny new passport photos and we compared them to my passport, obtained merely a month before we left on our 'soul searching mission to the glorious United Kingdom' and the difference between the photos is insane!!

Take a look at that!!

Did I have a moon face or what! And check out the size of my earrings, it looks like I have inserted frankenstein's bolts into my earlobes and dubbed them 'industrial chic'!  hahaha

Halz and I were joking that in this picture I looked as though I'm the head biatch at the High Security Womens Prison where I would 'illustrate' the others with my homemade tattoo gun made of a sharpened metal chair leg, some barbed wire, an old hair straightener and the remnants of my chewing tabacco used as ink during our 'freetime', that my fellow inmates feared catching my gaze from across the quad as though it was the death penalty and was affectionately referred to as Bruce


We soon had Hayley's passport out too and decided that with the Jet Black and seriously straight mane, thickly spread dark eye makeup and pale white skin, she looked like Bruce's Bat-shit Crazy cellmate Tanyaa who everyone avoided in fear that she may suddenly spaz out and stab someone with the closest inanimate object, like a fork, or toothbrush or unripened banana . . .  she is the one who hums songs from the muppets whilst rocking in the corner, uses merely one finger placed under someones nose to stop them in their tracks mid run and can stare blankly into someones eyes for hours without blinking once . . . . . Tanyaa is not to be fucked with!



Isnt it amazing how much ones appearance can change and develop over the course of 12 months - And . T H A N K . G A W D . that it did! hahaha

Im sure there will be twisted tales of Tanyaa and Bruce soon enough - stay tuned!