Eyes up, boys!
The day starts properly when Chandler, goofing around, cuts his face on the salt of his giant pretzel and bleeds on it. The first injury of the day — and there will be many.
Tag Archives: paris
“What the f— is Ushuaïa?”
Say what you like about wealthy Moroccan nightclub-managing, boat-owning party boys, but their hosting etiquette does their mothers proud.
#NeverSleep
This… this is how all Friday’s should look.
Duck, duck, haggis
Which involves a little bit of Harry Potter and a little bit of Jane Austen.
What time is it where you are?
It’s only in typing this post out that I realise I might just be a little homesick.
Cucumber gin & blazers in the west; vodka & grit in East London.
At Henley, as at Ascot, the spectrum of different British classes are laid out like a rainbow. If I was on the very royal Violet end of that rainbow Ascot, I’m towards the cheap and cheerful Red end for Henley
Let London swallow you whole.
“Am I dying?”
“No, it’s just London.”
Alrighty then.
“It’s a stress headache, so you should drink your wine.” Forget doctors, see Twiggy for medical advice. Our resident medical expert tops up Paris’s wineglass.
Summer’s in the air and baby, heaven’s in your eyes
Even a girl with a such a sensible head as mine can’t help but fall lose it over. It keeps happening, all the time. I caught it happening at least a couple of times this week, this dizzying, headfirst rush.
Why is a raven like a writing desk?
The relevant double-page of my diary looks like three drunken spiders had bathed in ink then played Holi there: ‘mum arrives’ is scrawled in blue next to the smudged black ink of ‘print Alice tickets!’ near ‘Wales? 1pm?’ in hesitant green. I had my first real visitor and I was determined to show her as wide a spectrum of London as I possibly could. Apologies if this post reads like a shopping list of London activities. That’s how it felt.
An unsettlingly big place 