I'm in Bruges. I am hungover.

Last night ended a few hours ago with some kind of magnolia-coloured vanilla spirit which according to two girls I was out with had the ‘look and consistency but sadly not the taste’ of semen (whether that means semen should taste more vanilla-y or spirits should taste more seminal I'm not quite sure, well no, I am), ( Read more... )

Spend a much-needed weekend away in northern France. The weather seemed to follow my mood: as soon as the ferry got halfway across the Channel, the clouds disappeared and the sun came out. Two or three hours after waking up in Kent, I was buying saucisson and Sancerre at a market in St-Omer, a fact which makes me realise I would find it difficult ( Read more... )