Yesterday, I took my camera to work and recorded some footage from the No. 8 bus. I wanted to capture the street piano again, hopefully with someone playing it like the day beforeWant to know what it feels like to be in my skin when I commute in the morning, sitting in the No. 8's second floor, with the iShuffle plugged in? Here's my footage ( ( Read more... )

( Read more... )

( Read more... )

( Read more... )

I'm in Londrina, visiting family. All my bureaucratic problems with the military were solved within a day, without a hitch (and for less than 2 pounds).  I can now renew my passport and sort out my other legal documents here.

Took loads of photos. Am taking the midnight bus tomorrow back to my mom's guesthouse: a 12-hour trip.  It's 32 celsius, ( Read more... )

I was waiting for a bus yesterday evening (and failing to get any since London + Rain = Crammed Buses) when I noticed a guy looking at me. Eventually he got close and explained that he needed to catch a bus or cab to Homerton Hospital. Then he produced his pièce de résistance: a giant gaping wound on his forearm beside what looked like a ( Read more... )

Last night, after a few hours spent with friends at Vagabonds (London's premier monthly night dedicated to 80s trad goth/alternative classics), Kevin and I hop on the No.8 bus, heading home. As the bus stops near Brick Lane, a hoard of drunk revellers push into the bus through the exit doors. Kevin and I move towards the back. The doors' alarms ( Read more... )

( Read more... )

Despite attending a "lame" fetish night at Slimelight on Friday, then not getting any sleep, tina found enough strength yesterday to get on a train from Walthamstow and come meet the actor who plays Kevin and I at Liverpool Street Station. Every Londoner was out and about after a smiley sun rose above the capital. She looked gorgeous as ever, ( Read more... )

( Read more... )