Can You Smell Burning?

In the legendary words of the mighty Bucks Fizz "London town, I’m getting into London town, In London town, I’m getting into London town, In London town" Tra la la.

As I am writing this a mere 9 days after the misleading date above, memories are less than fresh in my leaky mind; so all the interesting & fun bits will be lightly skimmed over, while the dull bits will be whipped into a frothing top ten list of frenzied boredom for you to despise at your leisure.

1. The smelly man on the smelly coach who illegally stole my legally binding seat belt, thus making us both criminals.
2. The culture mecca that is Forbidden Planet, the Shaftesbury Avenue branch of 'tat for geeks'.
3. The newish Fopp on Tottenham Court Road, a record shop that sells & lets you drink Guiness. This is where I want to go when I die.
4. The crusty mummies of the British Museum. Maybe they wanted to go to Fopp when they died, but missed by a few hundred yards.
5. Visiting Tate Britain's Turner Watercolours exhibition, curated by David Hockney, with his almost namesake in tow.
6. Pimlico.
7. Shouting at the Victoria ticket machine & drawing disparaging looks from the wizened commuters.
8. Watching Hockbo deep throat his subway, until in the space of 3 seconds naught was left but crumbs.
9. Soothing Bombadier from a Shepherd's Bush public house.
10. A Wogan-less Empire with a jolly Tom McRae, a broken Steve Reynolds & illicit smokey treats.


Currently listening: King of Cards by Tom McRae