My Holiday In The Bronx

I like going on my holidays. I like spending time in the shops, and being in the sun. It never sunshines in England. This year I went to The Bronx with Log. As usual, he's always up to his tricks and disappearing for days on end, and I have time to myself for making reviews with visual aids.


The first thing I noticed when entering the Bronx was how rude everyone was. I would walk up to people and ask them if they knew what time it was, just to break the ice before I offered them my theories on abortion and euthanasia. People in America are so hung up about this stuff! After telling me the time, most people quickly became preoccupied with walking away from me. I followed them, but I am too proud to run so most of them got away. The Bronx could do with learning some manners.

Here is my table of thoughts about Abortion and Euthanasia.




What colour is it?


Misty Grey

How many can you do in an hour, whilst still giving the appropriate amount of respect?



Best Time Of Day To Perform

Broad Daylight (inside)

Dusk / Sunset




This is typical. People are scared of me because I tell the truth. The truth is dangerous, but I am not afraid of it, because it looks after people who look after it. Every night I write the word LIES over myself , and then wash it off with a bar of soap which has the words “Daddy Hurt Me” written through it like a stick of rock. I must see if the shops here sell rock to take home with me.

I haven’t seen Log for the whole day. He is in the sauna. I hope he isn’t joining the mafia.


It wouldn’t be a holiday if I didn’t take home a load of crazy shit. When I went to Spain I brought back a load of little clay parrots on sticks. They sold these really weird wicker donkeys too, but you could see through them, and they didn’t have any innards. It was quite disturbing. Sometimes I feel the same way. Sometimes I feel that all my insides simply aren’t there. It is an unsettling feeling, to feel that all that you know yourself to be is built on an empty shell. That your emotions, no matter how strong them seem to be, cannot be stronger than the husk that contains them. This is why I collect the little toys that come out of Kinder Surprises - they give me something to focus on, and make me smile. Except the Galactinis, who I hate more than anything else in the world.

It came as something of a disappointment to me that they do not have Kinder Surprise in the Bronx. You have to buy toys and chocolates separately. Although there is nothing to stop you mixing thm yourself later, why should I have to? The cashier had never even heard of Kinder Surprise, which I think is pretty fucking shoddy. I could feel myself getting angry so I decided to leave.

In the end I bought everyone a “Take Me To Your Dealer” T-Shirt. They were quite cheap - I think because of the spelling mistake.


RACE ISSUES : All the buildings are broken, and people keep falling out of them. It does not surprise me that they are all black, they must be very sore. I became curious at all the different colours and the different ways they speak, and I have developed a table for talking between the colours, because some of them can be quite nice if you get past the initial, blood-chilling fear.







“Hello there sir”

“Hello crikey”

“Any nice to see you to see you nice please ducky”

“Yo yo yo very hardcore boss”

“Fight Me”

“Have at you, sirrah.”

“Yip yip yip, in your ear with a can of beer”

“Stabbing your head off actually thank you Mr. Jackson”

“Wickedy wickedy wickedy step outside please”

Typical Name

Syrahcuse P. Tomlinson the Third

Tito Puente of the Rising Sun

Ab-Dab Shaky Ding-Dong

Ol’ Messy Foo’

“Stop Tickling My Fiancée”

“Desist, thou blaggard!”

“No pokey ha-ha now”

“Now then now then boys make no mistake”

“Bitchribbing must cease”

NIGHTLIFE : I do not indulge in nightlife. Log tells me about his exploits in nightclubs and they sound very boring, playing chess and talking about central heating. I sometimes - when I'm thinking bad thoughts - think he might be cheating on me but he has shown me photos and there are no women in these nightclubs. I’m not surprised, if all they do is talk about central heating.

FACILITIES : We stopped at the Necronomicon. They had proper toilets but the wide-eyed maid kept poking me with a stick. The wall mucus turned out to be a nightmare I kept having, and not real at all, so bonus points there. The evening meal was lovely, although not suitable for nut allergy sufferers, as it was nuts in wine. The bedroom was spacious with a comfy double bed, which I did not share with Log, because he needs to sleep under big heavy weightlifters to help his bad back. The pain he suffers! He grunts like a butchered pig in the therapy room! As he calls the bathroom!

IN SUMMARY : the Bronx gets 7 out of 10. I don't give scores of less than 6, because it's not polite. So you can see how shit a score of 7 is.