Pot to Kettle: You're black

Had a few after work drinks on another Friday night, after another horrendous week of work at my horrible job. Ended up in a crude conversation with 3 girls. English girls are so easy to shock, and I was feeling pretty quick. Once you've made the first admission, the ice melts and those 'butter wouldn't melt' mouths drop some insalubrious pearlers.

Glastonbury has turned into a quagmire festival. Oh dear. All those drugs washing about. Expect friends return carrying double their body weight in mud. Still something appealting about see The Killers or Jack White wearing Wellingtons and a bikini.

Went to see Friday Kahlo exhibition at the Tate Modern. I truly empathise with her, her pain and heart break, her confused sexuality, infertility and especially her monobrow. This picture on the left is after her split from Diego. The image of her on the right is with her heart in tact, as she dressed for him in traditional Mexican clothing. An artery connects to a small photo of Diego she holds in her hand. The image on the left she is in a colonial style dress - refers to her mixed lineage - and her heart is cut open. She has cut the photo of Diego from her artery, and the heart is pumping blood shaped hearts on her dress.