Back at work today. The Northern line was down (London code word for get the fucking bus). So we got the fucking bus. Still got to read the metro though, feeling very informed in the morning. It’s shame all this cultural knowledge flies out of my brain as soon as I prance down Tottenham Court Road.

We made breakfast for Twatter (Sam, lord of the dance and Twitter) after he gallantly defended my honour after the Twitter backlash. We now have a new member of breakfast club among our ranks, welcome Brother Twatter.

Good news! Shaun Clarkson (of Pifields (see pic. 3 for the business card I have fashionably accessorised my mouth with)) emailled this morning saying they liked the pitch! So GO TEAM this week. Full steam ahead, aboard the consumer content express, choo chooooo (dunno). I ordered a battery for my SLR so I can take some better images than the iPhoto ones (Surely not?? (Yes, really))

We’re going to put forward the idea of collaborating with Supreme to Tin Tin and Twatter today. We’ll see how that goes down, ey. 

Yesterday I outdid myself. Rump steak burger followed by chocolate brownie (cheers Irish) (Hi Mum I’m still struggling in the big city, making my own way and learning the value of money I promise), washed down with ginger beer. Last night in the Boogaloo there were 7 live music acts on which was wonderful. I had half a pint then went to sleep.

Now I’m at work again (pic no. 2 depicts my distress at working on the 4th floor, oh the pain).

Just been told that a bloke is coming in. (Can’t expand, you know as much as I do now)

Pic no. 1, I’m posing with the metro, for no reason. I’m obviously not reading it. G is posing with peaches, maybe it’s a subtle reference to her breasts, or an innocent statement of healthy food choices, I’ll leave you with that thought. 


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