Sex, drugs, and murder
I avoided the hangover today by sleeping well past noon. I didn’t have anything scheduled for the morning and I didn’t have to meet for the Rock Legends Tour until 1400. I enjoyed riding around in a minivan around London, learning about the upbringings of The Beatles, Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, Queen, The Clash, and various others. The highlight of the tour took place at Abbey Road where I got a couple pictures of myself doing the famous crossing. Abbey Road has become a busy intersection over the years so I wasn’t able to get the quality I had hoped for. It was a cool picture nonetheless.
Afterwards I had Fish and Chips for dinner so that I could feel British and then met with a group to go on a Jack the Ripper tour down in White Chapel. We learned some about the area, walked to the sites of the murders, as the story progressed concerning Jack. We received the historical side of the story, leaving out the Hollywood adaptions, but the story itself was still quite brutal and oddly tasteful. The stories were told to disgust and creep us out, but all it made me want to do was go out and cut up some hookers.
On another note it did give me an idea for a story and a reason to come back down to this part of town. Before the end of the week I’d like to photograph different parts of White Chapel and get myself in the mood to tell a brutal and dramatic story concerning the Ripper in his correct context. That will most likely be one of the things that occupy me for the next seven months in Afghanistan.
Even though my alcoholic nature is calling me to the pub I think I should bed down a little earlier tonight. I’m leaving for Paris in the morning and I need to be at the train station at 0550.
Afterwards I had Fish and Chips for dinner so that I could feel British and then met with a group to go on a Jack the Ripper tour down in White Chapel. We learned some about the area, walked to the sites of the murders, as the story progressed concerning Jack. We received the historical side of the story, leaving out the Hollywood adaptions, but the story itself was still quite brutal and oddly tasteful. The stories were told to disgust and creep us out, but all it made me want to do was go out and cut up some hookers.
On another note it did give me an idea for a story and a reason to come back down to this part of town. Before the end of the week I’d like to photograph different parts of White Chapel and get myself in the mood to tell a brutal and dramatic story concerning the Ripper in his correct context. That will most likely be one of the things that occupy me for the next seven months in Afghanistan.
Even though my alcoholic nature is calling me to the pub I think I should bed down a little earlier tonight. I’m leaving for Paris in the morning and I need to be at the train station at 0550.