"Nostrils, or Ms Fearne Cotton, was in front of us"
Here lies the final entry of the London journal. It got a bit stretched as you might've noticed, but here we go.
Wednesday 21st March #2
Where were we? Street. Yes. After being underwhelmed, we made haste to Euston Station via Regents Park, on foot. Good few miles were covered. As we passed the BBC place, or a BBC place, I could've sworn Nostrils, or Ms Fearne Cotton, was in front of us. But no, just a similar arse. We reached Euston an hour and a half early, I burst a lung laughing about Captain Haddock getting launched over the room by a treadmill. Five hours of 3DS; an all-too familiar thirty minute trip and I'm home. Thoughts? Londoners are all generally well dressed, actually say "You're welcome" and it's a fucking great city.
Good to be home to moaning pissheads, Bunny Dread and that blimmin' hamster. 9:45, Dad calls asking me to drive out and get him whisky. Business as usual. Next up is John O'Groats, comrades. In less than twelve hours I'll be back at work, having fun with packaging legislation. Restrain me. Onwards!
In a bit.
The following is an excerpt from my Australia Journal 2008-09. Before reading, take note - this entry has weird names and Brokeback tones
Sunday 21st December 2008
Sushi bar. Did I eat any? Comedian. Sampled wasabi and sneezed lava. Got back, and decided I've shopped enough for one millennium. All I saw in five hours was Who posters. Came back, went to party of yuppies who used a bit much innuendo for my liking, eg "We met in the toilet" I got trapped in the toilet for half an hour, assembled a queue of bursting bladders, and then made my escape. Ozzy teens hate outsiders, three or hour more beers and I wouldn't have cared too much. Freddy has at present lost his wallet, possibly at the pictures. Mark broke up with Addellina tonight, and is doing seemingly very well, but I think I can read him now like he reads me.
"In the far off distance, I can see the lights of town"