Amsterdam looks like a painting, May 2013
It’s going well. I managed to get the only cabby in London who had no idea where Victoria station was. An utter, howling twat. I got us there myself with 2 minutes to spare.
Oh and everyone in the airport looks amazing. I look exactly like I’ve had 2 hours sleep. Which is what I’ve had.
Bonnie Prince Billy is getting me through this.
Kind of.
This Woolwich shit is dark. So is the instant barrage of racism from the few morons who have somehow slipped through my trigger happy facebook culls.
Gay marriage equality joy yesterday, extremist meat cleaver murder of a serving soldier on a residential street today. The two very different sides of the same potato.
Edit: aaaaaand my friends just found out her breast cancer is back for the 3rd time. Fuck today.
The American Dream, PA, April, 2013
I’ve worked 2, 14-hour days in a row and I have the prospect of getting up at 2:30am to catch a flight to Amsterdam where I will spend 2 days walking round shops before getting home at about midnight on Friday.
It’s glam. If you think glam is being perma-tired and spending a load of time hungover in airports.
