Regina Spektor: Part Three
We arrive in London, only to be greeted by the Deadly Neon Cobras of the Night Gang.
X marks the spot. Or not.
According to Coop, I should be impressed by the BT Tower. Meh.
I truly am a long way from Kansas now. Look at the benches! They're on the road! Only in London can people sit on benches in the road. Fuck the pavement, we want to sit on the road is what I imagine someone once said.
Time Out. That magaizne that prints this every week: www.themanwhofellasleep.com/gossip.html
Even at night people are busy, busy, busy. They are in such a rush to do things that they are little more than a blur.
Get down from there, Freddie. You'll only end up falling into a big bloody pile giving us all the aids.
Trafalgar Square. Ok?
Maybe in America black people can sit on buses, but not in London. In London they must stand.
It's like being in the future. How did the machine know I was a single adult?
Ding ding. On the bus we get. The number 58, I think. Straight up to the top at the very front. It's like I'm driving. I can't drive.
Picture time.
With all the channels in the world at the moment, the bloody idiots decide to show us CCTV footage. What's the point in that? I can watch that by turning around.
We're at a crossroad, both in our lives and the road.
How dare that man look into my camera.
Only when standing?
Filler material.
Jesus, is that you? Yes, it is me, LOL.
After trains, buses and walking, we are finally in Coop's house. Goodnight.
X marks the spot. Or not.
According to Coop, I should be impressed by the BT Tower. Meh.
I truly am a long way from Kansas now. Look at the benches! They're on the road! Only in London can people sit on benches in the road. Fuck the pavement, we want to sit on the road is what I imagine someone once said.
Time Out. That magaizne that prints this every week: www.themanwhofellasleep.com/gossip.html
Even at night people are busy, busy, busy. They are in such a rush to do things that they are little more than a blur.
Get down from there, Freddie. You'll only end up falling into a big bloody pile giving us all the aids.
Trafalgar Square. Ok?
Maybe in America black people can sit on buses, but not in London. In London they must stand.
It's like being in the future. How did the machine know I was a single adult?
Ding ding. On the bus we get. The number 58, I think. Straight up to the top at the very front. It's like I'm driving. I can't drive.
Picture time.
With all the channels in the world at the moment, the bloody idiots decide to show us CCTV footage. What's the point in that? I can watch that by turning around.
We're at a crossroad, both in our lives and the road.
How dare that man look into my camera.
Only when standing?
Filler material.
Jesus, is that you? Yes, it is me, LOL.
After trains, buses and walking, we are finally in Coop's house. Goodnight.
posted by batteriesfeelincluded | 1:15 pm
1 Comments:
It was an 88 bus.
It should be made very clear that Chin was on sofa cushions on the floor in that last picture.
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