iAnxiety

Currently have Agnetha, Bjorn, Benny, and the other one loaded up on iPod as I mince around the streets of London which has led to one of my occasional bouts of paranoia. What if I'm in an accident and they find me with 'gimme gimme gimme' spilling out of my headphones? Will they make assumptions. Will I be carted off to some special ward, full of people in sequined hot pants, roller boots and furnished with a mirrorball. Will they, in fact, consider me as camp as a row of homosexualists?

I suppose as long as they scoop up and put back or sew up or fix whatever happened, I don't care much.

Okay, I care a bit. I want nurses to think I'm butch.