The Maltese Pigeon
What’s the difference between an old bus stop and a lobster with a boob job?
Category Archives: London
Am I more than you bargained for yet?
It’s beautifully, flamboyantly cliché. Ricky Martin has a house on one of the wide, green-canopied avenues. His music plays here more than is merited.
Bath time with strangers!
A catch up entry from March 2017, lost between the flimsy pages of my Google Inbox and iPhone notes.
Bienvenido a Miami
Ooh, pretty coastline!
Took the fireworks and the vanity, the circuit board and the city streets.
In which NYC and I do Round III.
Cronut-town
And now I’m on a plane to New York. I have 60 hours in New York City: it feels like a challenge. I’ve never liked this city. However, I’m fairly certain that that’s my fault, not its.
I’ve held dreams of Boston all my life
It’s all I can do not to fall asleep in my Sam Adams, raw clams and marshmallows.
Reality is merely an illusion, albeit a very persistent one
The London dark gnawed at me.
What do you dream of on the West Coast when my head is aching in GMT?
In which we road trip and there are too many characters: the Cub, Badger, Bunny, Bunky, Powerjam, brother, sister, as yet un-nicknamed cousin, Nakiska, Flipper and friends. And, unsurprisingly, too much drinking.
The boots with the furrrr
“It’s aprés!” I laugh.
“It’s what?”
“You’ve never…? Oh wow.”
