Adulting: Ordering pizza because you realise every plate and dish needs washing and pizza doesn’t need plates, or cultery

[Hungry]

Coming off the Jubilee Line at London Bridge, a fellow traveller stepped onto the (fairly long) escalator. He then turned round and sat down, his seat slowly rising. Did it again on the next flight. Can’t work out if he’s a genius or psycho!

[Surprised]

Oh good, the buses have stopped warning us (late) they’re going to move and now tell us to hold on when they’re moving. Because we’re 5

Hadn’t realised the fare increases were to pay for the reintroduction of the bloke with the red flag walking at the front of the train but judging by the speed of my train home tonight that’s what it must be. 

Just catching up on Royston Vasey. Like stepping back into an old friend’s underpants. 

Just put some foil over the top of a bowl and for some reason was suddenly transported back to covering a port on a UHV chamber. Haven’t done that in a while. 

Said we are Premier League, said we are Premier League. Job Done. In Rafa we trust.

(sorry we won’t see you there mackems 🙂 )

In the Central, with memories. We sat about there. The seat was ripped. The gents was lacking a door. The jukebox was over there, far end. You always said you meant to play Magic Bus but you put on I Want To Know What Love Is. I already knew.

None of that’s here now. The memories are but none of the rest, or you. I’m not sad. I’m just sad.

And then Dakota; plays. You and I. And I think how many songs have you missed. I’m still not sad, honest.

It doesn’t matter who I’m travelling with, or not. Nor who is here or not. When I look out the train window and see lobba hill over the Team Valley on one side and Bensham on the other, I will always smile.