We Can Fight in the Living Room

Bus again. Thursday. Two girls sitting infront of me; both slim, pretty young girls apparently both going through the same mental breakdown. Conversation goes - an anonymous friend's dramatic weight loss; weight watchers; chocolate bars; chocolate bars; chocolate; chocolate is great; I'd love some chocolate now. I love chocolate so much. Something about what if you could just buy like a slice of chocolate instead of a whole bar? Too sad. Anyway, eventually they've resumed the far more enthralling diet talk and how one of them is planning to lose another stone, on top of the stone she just lost. Except it's craaaazy, cos like when she tells people she wants to "go down to the bottom of her healthy weight" (just to see what it's like), they're like shit no, don't do that, and she's all but just to seeeeee!! What it's liiiiiiike!! But people don't understand. In the end the girls aptly conclude that people are stupid and society is totally fucked up.
Anyway, speaking of obsessive appetites brought on by starvation, I passed a couple on Grafton street yesterday engaged in a very sexy snog (there was a swoon / dip thing going on), when a little middle aged Italian tourist came up to them and loudly went yum! yum! yum! into their faces, smacking her lips and laughing, before walking off.
No other crazies this week. Apart from the guy at the bar in Eamon Doran's last night. The band were great, and the crowd were quietly receptive; the overall mojo was excellent. So why did he keep shouting "Yeeeeah!!! Let's get this party staaaaaaarted!"?
I guess we'll never know. Now I'm going to go boil my face off. Just to see what it's like.