Remember when . . .

I'm feeling nostalgic. So what else is new. Specifically I'm nostalgic for London. A city I clearly don't recall loathing on a daily basis. All I choose to remember is its charming quirkiness and the total gas I had living there. 

I've decided to revisit some of my writings of the time and I've decided to inflict this hilarity on you may faithful reader(s). Yes, all six of you.

Backstory: I lived in a terrific (and uncharacteristically humongous) flat in Southwark. Across the road was a dodgy-as-fuck half-way house. It provided hours of entertainment and a general sense of uneasiness.

Lets reminisce shall we?

I’ve mentioned the house for the derelict and permanently drunk that’s located across the street? Well, we can add insane to that list of credentials. As I was hanging out my window yesterday I spotted a shifty character come out of  the “shelter” across the way. So far nothing too out of the ordinary. Except upon close inspection I actually read what was on this fella’s t-shirt. Bearing in mind he was weaving all over the road. Difficult to focus. In scrawled, what looked to be printing done in liquid paper. In a very either avant garde or slightly more likely, hasty intoxicated fashion he had written on the front 100% MAD. Super. The really swell part was when I got a look at the back, and it read 200% CRAZY. Super-duper. I think that just about sums up the caliber of resident across the street. Send me your loving thoughts now, cause tomorrow it may be too late. This of course coming from the girl who dragged a door home from under the overpass down the road b/c she thought it looked pretty. Hey kettle, you’re black. 

The End.

For now at least - tune in again next time for more drivel.