Fundon!
before i even start, i have this punchline (or maybe it's the setup)...
"So I heard you're a lebanese... Er, sorry, I mean dyke."
and no joke to go with it. thoughts?
Anyway, on to the real business of giving you the business...
To answer your first two questions; yes, I am in London, and no, there's just not enough recycling centers in the world to handle all the eurotrash here.
Everyone's been hitting the nightlife so hard that I kinda wish I had an excuse to stay in. The scene here is a bit different though. Firstly, the parties that should, by New York preconceptions, be awesome, are actually bland,
homogenized attempts to ape the whole LES/E Village thing. If I hear just one more emaciated, Diesel and "vintage" wearing douche talk about how hard it is to find pot here I'm gonna scream. But on the flip side, the random, uncool in a Jack Johnson sort of way, basement get togethers are lively and fun and fuzzy with liquor. I don't get it... Are those people the cool kids here? Must discuss with Arianna.
Ok, so nightlife = good. Social life = better. It's a nice change from "the scene" at school to have everyone thrown into a situation where they have to at least try to make friends with everyone else. Also, there are about three girls for every boy here. Or maybe there are only half a dozen straight guys, so it just seems like that. Sometimes I almost feel bad for them... As Tom put it (actually, I put it to Tom, but it sounds sleazy so I'm attributing it to him), "It's like fucking fish in a barrel." Love the scaley, writhing imagery... Meeting lots of good people, expanding my horizons, all that shit.
In other news this morning was the first time I've woken up naturally before 1430 (they use military time a lot over here... all kinds of weird). It might be the beer working it's way out of my system, or I might actually be adjusting to the time change. Either way, it's kind of nice to have an entire day ahead of me (during which I will still accomplish nothing, but the opportunity's there).
I know I'm forgetting things, but I'm hungover from a week-long drunk and tired from killing the shark that ate my friend.
"So I heard you're a lebanese... Er, sorry, I mean dyke."
and no joke to go with it. thoughts?
Anyway, on to the real business of giving you the business...
To answer your first two questions; yes, I am in London, and no, there's just not enough recycling centers in the world to handle all the eurotrash here.
Everyone's been hitting the nightlife so hard that I kinda wish I had an excuse to stay in. The scene here is a bit different though. Firstly, the parties that should, by New York preconceptions, be awesome, are actually bland,
homogenized attempts to ape the whole LES/E Village thing. If I hear just one more emaciated, Diesel and "vintage" wearing douche talk about how hard it is to find pot here I'm gonna scream. But on the flip side, the random, uncool in a Jack Johnson sort of way, basement get togethers are lively and fun and fuzzy with liquor. I don't get it... Are those people the cool kids here? Must discuss with Arianna.
Ok, so nightlife = good. Social life = better. It's a nice change from "the scene" at school to have everyone thrown into a situation where they have to at least try to make friends with everyone else. Also, there are about three girls for every boy here. Or maybe there are only half a dozen straight guys, so it just seems like that. Sometimes I almost feel bad for them... As Tom put it (actually, I put it to Tom, but it sounds sleazy so I'm attributing it to him), "It's like fucking fish in a barrel." Love the scaley, writhing imagery...
In other news this morning was the first time I've woken up naturally before 1430 (they use military time a lot over here... all kinds of weird). It might be the beer working it's way out of my system, or I might actually be adjusting to the time change. Either way, it's kind of nice to have an entire day ahead of me (during which I will still accomplish nothing, but the opportunity's there).
I know I'm forgetting things, but I'm hungover from a week-long drunk and tired from killing the shark that ate my friend.
