Friday night - went to the Concrete and Glass Music and Arts Festival at Shoreditch with Scotty (uni mate). Sampled first Brick Lane curry (wasn't too bad - the huckstering by the doormen at every restaurant down the entire street was better) prior to having a wander. Checked out one place that played nothing but '50's hits (surprisingly better than it sounds) then missed out on seeing the main band we went to see - TV On The Radio - but got into another place to see a punk band called - brace yourselves, ladies - Selfish C*nts. Not bad, lots of punk energy from the band and from the crowd, with a bit of beer-spitting courtesy of one punter and even a bit of slam-dancing. Conversations monosyllabic.
Saturday morning - The Final Push. Moved into my flat on Bermondsey Street in London Bridge. Finally got to remind myself what I'd packed on the bottom of the suitcase over a month ago. Good place, big room, Bermondsey Street never stops, close to London Bridge Station, 5 minute walk to the Thames and Tower Bridge - happy snaps are but a free weekend away.
Saturday night - went to dinner at Maggie Jones' in Notting Hill - amazingly charming little restaurant, apparently frequented by Princess Margaret herself, with not an inch of roof visible inside due to the staggering array of rustic agricultural tools, implements and produce hung like a stalactite infestation throughout. Dim lights, French waitstaff, French/New Brit food (try the pheasant - gamey goodness) - get there if you're in this neck o' the plantation.
Sunday - purchased a 160pound overcoat after a total of 36 seperate shopping expeditions since I first arrived, simply because its the only one I've found that could actually fit my arm length without making me look like:
(a) I was coming to stab you,
(b) I was on day release from the local mental hospital,
(c) a large, soft church bell, or
(d) I'd been unemployed since the age of 18 and listed "Seven Eleven" as my favourite cuisine.
So to all those fashion designers out there who continue to ignore the fact that the human race does indeed come in a vast array of shapes and sizes, and that the average height and length of said human race is steadily increasing, a massive F*CK YOU. Thanks for wasting over 40+ hours of my life that I could've spent doing something far more worthwhile than having to shop for clothes that fit, you mincing over-inflated little turds. Congratulations on having such a positive impact on society at large with your ever-so-important decisions.
Monday - Made an Argos blunder. Ordered a bunch of homewares for the new flat, like matress protector, clothes airer etc. Went to pick up said items from the store near work in Croydon, and damn near died from a Pulled Everything on the way back. To expand: the matress protector, which I thought would be in a neatly-squashed bundle inside a plastic carry-thing with handles, instead turned out to be a 30kg+, 6-foot Sausage Beast of a thing I had to carry on one shoulder like a labourer carries a plank of wood. While hanging onto numerous oddly-shaped items with the other. People ran for cover at the sight of me staggering down the footpath towards them. The matress protector is still at work in the corner until I muster up the energy and wherewithal to get it home on the train without getting attacked by an angry mob after knocking little Timmy off the platform and onto the 10-gazillion volt railtracks with my giant sausage.
Fun times here. More to come soon, no doubt. You click now! :p
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