Sunday 23 February 2014

#60 Il Mirto

Dulwich searched Greek place walked closed across street tiny Italian looked naff outside inside ok no tables waiter hmm maybe squeeze here hmm moves tables manager not sure hmm fine sit look around niceish atmos really good olives waiter charming omg other table really really awesome pizza order blah blah love this place clam linguine wow nice wow tons stacked profiteroles o.m.g. 'mazing must blog.

Short one this week.

Sunday 16 February 2014

#59 "Neeeeeeext".

The first interviewee was an independent film maker, looking to move south of the river. We'd already started on the brownies that I'd made the night before. Our little interview panel was ready to grill the potential next housemates. Most of the questions we asked were fairly standard and we did our best to try and have a laugh with the visitors while the friendliest cat in the world jumped up onto each one of their laps and tried to lick them. I think she would have let them all live here.

The London rental market is full of well-travelled souls. A couple of the people we saw had recently flown in from Oceania and others were from parts of the UK but had done a good amount of overseas exploration. One guy had only been in the city for four days. A girl had just finished a year of travelling but couldn't bear the thought of going back home, settling down and getting married just yet. We didn't tell her that some of us would be quite happy with that scenario.

I guess none of the people we met were that interesting really. One of the girls took half an hour to eat her way through a brownie, which must be some kind of world record. One of the guys was talking about the fact that his nan had a vicious cat and that he couldn't understand why someone would keep a cat like that. I wasn't keen on that reasoning. You don't just get rid of an animal because you don't like its personality.

As usual, we were in complete agreement with the person that we like the most and sent her a text quickly a few hours ago. She hasn't replied yet.

Sunday 9 February 2014

#58 A long time ago in a galaxy far far away

Kick flip up onto the pavement, grab your board and let's head inside for a coffee. It's pretty casual in here, beads on the door, laptops and beanbags sprawled out in places. The floor's made of light wood panels and the sofas are brown leather. It is warm though. We don't come out every weekend but the baggy jeans and flat bottomed sneakers make an appearance pretty regularly. 

Yeah I guess we're good friends but I mainly gave you that bracelet because I like to make bracelets like that and I know how to do it now. It kind of goes well with the hat, not because it matches it in any way but because it completes a look that your sideburns and the messy, tiny piece of hair on the bottom of your chin, that you dared to call a beard, since you were like seventeen, have been creating for some time now.

Your girlfriend over-does the eyeliner but it kind of suits her. Waffles and pizza aren't really going to get you through the weekend but they'll do for now. I think we should go see a play tonight. That one with the funny guy in it perhaps. I'm trying to see if I can find the website for it. Yeah I had a good Christmas. What are you asking me that for? It's February. I'm probably going to have a good Easter too, you know what I mean? Probably going to have a good Easter too.

Monday 3 February 2014

#57 Some birthdays

"Can't believe we were up 'til half four" remarked Adam as we wandered back to the same pub for lunch on Sunday. I didn't tell him that I'd done the same thing the night before. I turn thirty later this year and as such, a lot of my friends are turning thirty this year. This weekend it was Chris and Gaj. Chris had a great night rocking out in a pub in Norwich to his own playlist, which included the Rocky IV soundtrack. Gaj has very little recollection of anything that happened after 10pm.

If the agencies that provided strippers had ten pence for every time a group of guys suggested half-heartedly that they should order one and didn't actually follow through, there'd be no need for any real strippers at all. I figure the agencies could extract the ten pence donations from the wives and girlfriends of the men concerned in return for maintaining the illusion that the service was freely available, whilst devising excuses when a genuine request was made. 

I'm tempted at this point to paste in the email invite that Tom circulated ahead of the night out. When you're trying to draw a crowd at two days' notice, you need Tom to work his magic quips and vocabulary into the invitation. This time he surpassed even his previous efforts. I think that maybe his beard gives him special literary powers. Maybe I should grow one.