Tag Archives: rape

Ich Bin Ein Berliner, Self-Harming & Bringing Rap Back.

Oh, hello! How are you all? It’s been a while since anything happened in The “Wonderful” World of (Spencer) Miles Lloyd, hasn’t it? I bet you were hoping I had died, weren’t you? Well guess what! Fuck you! I didn’t die and I’ll never die. I cut some of my thumb off, though. Nearly bled to death. Check it!

Silly me.

This was after just 3 hours of consistent bleeding!

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London, Bloody London or; How I’ve Been Getting the Wrong Kind of Raped.

*Editors note – I apologise for the title. There is no right kind of raped and I don’t mean to imply that there is. It’s just a catchy title and related to the post. Rape isn’t funny or cool. It’s harsh and selfish and you have to be a different kind of cunt to do it. The kind of cunt hell wouldn’t even want. Can someone let the professional footballers know that? They seem to keep missing the memos. But anyway. To the post!

Well, that’s it! It’s been decided. Come the end of January next year I am leaving London for the last time. As I’m moving to Canada next September I thought I might as well spend my last few months in this god-damn country in a place I love, as opposed to a place I love to hate. Don’t get me wrong, London has some of the best people I’ve ever met in it and it has been home to some of my fondest memories these last four or five years.

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Attempted Rape, Get In The Van & Shitty House

I heard the greatest thing ever on Friday night. I was at a party in a rugby club and I had gone outside to smoke a fag. There was a group of three girls just out by the door, also smoking, and just chatting away amongst themselves and what-not when who should appear from the door of the bar but a pair of gypsies. Proper gypsies. the rough Irish kind, not the lovable roman kind. The kind of gypsies that are in the paper now and again because they steal homeless men and force them to work as slaves. The type of gypsies you avoid at all costs. I think you get the picture.

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You Just Can’t Bring Up Rape in a Job Interview These Days.

Fuck me trying to write a story about a crime fighting unicorn who can speak Swahili and shoot lasers out of his hooves is hard. It just kinda goes off on one on its own and I get confused and fall asleep. Jesus Christs. I just gave up for today and thought I’d have a ramble instead. But I have nothing to ramble about. I’m going to get some trainers tomorrow. That isn’t a ramble, but I’m excited. I love shoe shopping. Like a woman or a gay. It’s awesome fun. I also have to go to fudging Swansea. Again. I was there today for a job interview and it was odd. I haven’t had a job interview in ages.

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