Lindon

Ah Lindon, Lindon, Lindon. The smell of Old Kent Road, the matresses and guns of Brixton Road, the lovely sunrises and sunsets over the smoke filled air of Sloane Square.
I have been rehearsing for my one man show. I know! Amazing. Since coming to England, oops, I mean Britain I've had an amazing run of luck and last week as I was walking nonchalantly down Sauchiehall Street in my new Versace jacket I was stopped by the MOST amazing man. He wasn't beautiful or anything (he's 38) but he had the eyes, mmmm, oh, they were just so intelligent, you know. So, anyway, he stopped me and was like
"Hello!"
And I was like
"Hi"
And he was like
"It's you, isn't it."
And I said
"No, I don't think so"
And he responded
"Well, it sure as hell should be, you've got it boy. You've got the X-Factor"
And I was like
"What are you talking about?" I hadn't seen his intelligent eyes at that point.
And he said
"You! Youyouyouyouyouyouyouyouyou!!! Get over here now!"
so I did, and it's been wonderful ever since. He's trained me hard and now I've been booked in at, wait for it, the Trocadero. Yes, the Trocadero. To do a one man show called 'Latte to go'. It's all about this boy who finds himself stuck in London after escaping a cruel sex-trade pimp. It's amazing.
Ooops, gotta' go!!

Mustyxxxxx