Hollywood, Here I Come!
Was ‘IM’ing with Ali yesterday after the whole website of the week in The Guardian Guide thing – he reckons now I got a couple of inches in the national press I should ‘Maximy the goodness’ – think he meant ‘make the most of it’. Then he said: “I thinks Hollywood is waitings”. Err, Ali mate, isn’t that, like, quite a fucking long way away? Just guessing, but possibly a bit fucking too far to fly…
No, turns out it’s piece of piss. Fuck the wings, use someone else’s! Ali’s mate works at Heathrow and reckons he could sneak me on board a plane saying I’m some shit hot racing pigeon. I said I might be a bit OB for a racer, but apparently they don’t weigh pigeons. Cool.
Slight snag – he says I’ll have to travel in one of these:
Looks a bit small… apparently they there ‘aint no premier economy for pigeons. Bit rude if you ask me. Anyway, he said he’d get his mate to pad it up a bit with some socks.
One other small point – what happens when I get there? Some slightly overweight random pigeon just rocks up…
Nice one – he’d covered this off too:
“I gots a pal there – Jim the Yank. Works at the airport.”
Jesus Christ. Told Mart. Mart said it was a great idea and wants to come. Not been this excited since I left Hayes.
That’ll be me, sat on top of the Hollywood ‘W’ checking out the boulevards. Bring it on. Just got to sort some shit before I go – get some contacts going etc.
Prob be good to do some flying about stuff – get me bod into shape.
Any LA pigeons out there – get in touch! I’m on my way and would love to meet up…