(no subject)
The choice of song is appropiate, as i ventured through Liverpool Street this morning, amongst all the City Hobgoblins rushing between the office and Costas. In the Kosovan shop on Pitfield Street today i was amused to hear a child of about 6 using the phrase "Christ on a bike". And the suns out kids...
Last night i believed would be a quiet affair with Toya's friends from work. I started in the Barley Mow, due to Toya's miscalculation of times, (we arrived to meet her mates 45 mins early!), and after losing someone on the way to the restaraunt, wqe continued in similar fashion.
I met a Moldovan teacher called Dmitri, having never been to Moldova, i was grateful that i always kept that Dorking-Kingsley World reference atlas in the toilet. I was able to hold a coherent conversation about the situation in Transdnistria. Martin (Volunteer) appeared and we repaired (repaired???) to Hoxton Square where a French gentlemen called Stefan (who said DAF were 'pussy') unleashed a laptop and a hefty little speaker, and proceeded to play very loudly, German experimental electronic noise.
This is obviously how to make friends and influence people in Hoxton, as we attracted a swarm of Sho'ditch twats, the most memorable being a very posh artist called Calum, some glamourous woman from Sutton-in-Ashfield (i once had a very bad experience with LSD in Sutton-in-A in 1994), who despite looking very lush and posh, seemed to be begging. I also met someone from Halifax, an average looking Hoxton fashionista, who then regaled me with a Yorkshire Republican Army song. It was very impressive, but i had to inform her i'm a fully paid up member of the People's Republic of South Yorkshire (c. Daily Mail 1975). West Yorkshire never meant shit to me!!
Tonight, town, YES! Bagsy the Jon Snow, the cheapest pub in Soho named after a news reader. (The Moira Stewart on Poland St burnt down).
Last night i believed would be a quiet affair with Toya's friends from work. I started in the Barley Mow, due to Toya's miscalculation of times, (we arrived to meet her mates 45 mins early!), and after losing someone on the way to the restaraunt, wqe continued in similar fashion.
I met a Moldovan teacher called Dmitri, having never been to Moldova, i was grateful that i always kept that Dorking-Kingsley World reference atlas in the toilet. I was able to hold a coherent conversation about the situation in Transdnistria. Martin (Volunteer) appeared and we repaired (repaired???) to Hoxton Square where a French gentlemen called Stefan (who said DAF were 'pussy') unleashed a laptop and a hefty little speaker, and proceeded to play very loudly, German experimental electronic noise.
This is obviously how to make friends and influence people in Hoxton, as we attracted a swarm of Sho'ditch twats, the most memorable being a very posh artist called Calum, some glamourous woman from Sutton-in-Ashfield (i once had a very bad experience with LSD in Sutton-in-A in 1994), who despite looking very lush and posh, seemed to be begging. I also met someone from Halifax, an average looking Hoxton fashionista, who then regaled me with a Yorkshire Republican Army song. It was very impressive, but i had to inform her i'm a fully paid up member of the People's Republic of South Yorkshire (c. Daily Mail 1975). West Yorkshire never meant shit to me!!
Tonight, town, YES! Bagsy the Jon Snow, the cheapest pub in Soho named after a news reader. (The Moira Stewart on Poland St burnt down).