Emails to Jono and Bethany
Apr. 24th, 2004 04:39 pmTo: [fucking prince of darkness]
From: [trouble]
Rumour has it that you're desperate for a fag. Which is a coincidence, since I'm gasping for one meself. Care to stage a brief rescue so we can both indulge? Boiler room ain't _that_ far from medlab.
A.
To: [skaterbabe]
From: [trouble]
I'm only resting. *grins* Sorry, spot of Monty Python humour there. Trying to lighten the mood and all.
I would have contacted you sooner, and by phone, only I've been in the medlab and not exactly up for communicating with anyone 'cept by ouija board. Well, slight exaggeration, I wasn't actually _dead_, but things went a bit pear-shaped in Mexico and I'm fucking lucky Pete and Emma turned up when they did. But I'm on the mend now, and I'm really sorry if me email freaked you out or anything. To tell the truth, _I_ was freaked out, and I wasn't really thinking that well, beyond, 'oh fuck, I'm in the shite now'. You're entitled to tell me to go to hell if you like, but I hope you won't, or at least not until I get the chance to tell you what happened and why I was so scared. And I can't do that here, even with me old mate the spell check. In person would be best, but if you can't talk your dad into letting you visit your sick friend (I'd come to you, only they've got me on a pretty short leash and honestly? I couldn't fight me way out of a wet paper bag right now), then the phone will have to do.
I'm _really_ sorry, babe. Let me know if you want me to go fuck meself or not, all right?
A.
From: [trouble]
Rumour has it that you're desperate for a fag. Which is a coincidence, since I'm gasping for one meself. Care to stage a brief rescue so we can both indulge? Boiler room ain't _that_ far from medlab.
A.
To: [skaterbabe]
From: [trouble]
I'm only resting. *grins* Sorry, spot of Monty Python humour there. Trying to lighten the mood and all.
I would have contacted you sooner, and by phone, only I've been in the medlab and not exactly up for communicating with anyone 'cept by ouija board. Well, slight exaggeration, I wasn't actually _dead_, but things went a bit pear-shaped in Mexico and I'm fucking lucky Pete and Emma turned up when they did. But I'm on the mend now, and I'm really sorry if me email freaked you out or anything. To tell the truth, _I_ was freaked out, and I wasn't really thinking that well, beyond, 'oh fuck, I'm in the shite now'. You're entitled to tell me to go to hell if you like, but I hope you won't, or at least not until I get the chance to tell you what happened and why I was so scared. And I can't do that here, even with me old mate the spell check. In person would be best, but if you can't talk your dad into letting you visit your sick friend (I'd come to you, only they've got me on a pretty short leash and honestly? I couldn't fight me way out of a wet paper bag right now), then the phone will have to do.
I'm _really_ sorry, babe. Let me know if you want me to go fuck meself or not, all right?
A.
no subject
Date: 2004-04-25 01:00 am (UTC)From: J.
Subject: Plan 9 from outer space.
I'll meet you in the medlab and we'll proceed from there.
-J