14 May 2012
Morning all!
Was up all last night, most of it spent contemplating my navel and not drinking whiskey. Nevermind.
Have just completed some SERIOUS retail therapy - think 12 items in Topman and you're getting close to the horrifying ballpark figure of one of the receipts currently taking up space in my back pocket - along with committing an equally grave and not unrelated amount of damage to one or two credit cards. Oh well, you can't take it with you, right?
It's raining in London today. But you already knew that. It in doubt, always assume it's raining. Except when it isn't and it's snowing. Quite frankly I wouldn't be surprised to see sleet right now and who wants that? Sleet? The most mediocre of weather. The Boris Johnson of precipitation.
The Duke of Argyll, just off Oxford Street, has a formidable selection of well known, imported and even one or two locally brewed ales. Nicholson's have retained the original screens, separating the bar into coves, nooks and crannies for intimate conversation amongst other things (drugs, sex and covert reading). There's the usual smattering of tourist couples, bohemian dropouts and barflys sheltering from Monday morning. The staff are busying about, recouping after a lairy weekend; cleaning bottles, taking the trash out, doing their hair in the back wall mirror.
Everyone's pretty much minding their own business. Apart from me. I want to know what the hell you're up to Opuss. I want your dirty, weekend laundry. What in sweet Jesus's blood have you been doing? Sound off in the comments, below.
Surprise me.
And happy f**k**g Monday.
J. x
14.05.12 • Opuss № I