As I don’t live in London any more, I feel I can freely insult the place.
Today I arrived in the filthy capital, and was immediately conscious of all the nasty, busy people hurrying to their doom, and queueing to pay five pounds to travel on the stinky Underground. I couldn’t bring myself to go on the stinky Underground as it trundled in the dark at walking pace. I decided to walk the pollution-clogged streets for the three miles to my destination, despite carrying a rucksack stuffed with fluids and large textbooks.
My trek perked up at one point. I saw that the bushes had been hastily fenced off in Bloomsbury Square with an ill fitting wood and wire barrier. A sign indicated that this was to allow the vegetation to flourish. I laughed to myself thinking that it was probably to stop the Russel Square runoff from using the bushes as camouflage for their illicit activities.
It’s hard to pee in London, without paying for the privilege. I like peeing, the prospect of which helps me focus when I’m struggling to finish long drinks. I don’t like paying 20 pence to urinate. Why can’t pervert internet users pay my urination fees in exchange for access to webcams in the cubicles?
The population of leaflet distributing and placard holding people on Oxford street has increased an order of magnitude since I was last here a few months ago. There are people reading books and pretending to listen to personal stereos underneath placards at every corner now. This is how I found this internet cafe.
Enough on London. I don’t really live anywhere particularly come to think of it, so I can insult everywhere else too. Want me to insult your hometown? Drop me a line. Very reasonable rates for mild insults to your neighbourhood.