tube socks

There's nothing like being stuck on a trans-atlantic flight with someone in your immediate area who won't cop to having stinky feet and refuses to put their shoes back on. Despite the injurious olfactory assault on the way over, and adding on an insulting hour in the customs qeue on the other end, I seem to have landed in London quite well off. Apparently I've even picked up a British accent.



After an appropriately firey send-off in NYC I was quite unsurprised to find London just as I imagined... foggy and drizzly. Several have assured me that this is not always the case and in fact it was sunny only just the other day, but I don't believe them at all. Taxi drivers are also history professors and are more than happy to share any and all of their knowledge with a curious american who has no ability to independantly verify their information... they seem experts on all things to do with the Queen. The English seem obesessed with tchotchkies, as they have filled Westminster Abby with tributes to stiff faced earls and dukes and Mary Queen of Scots clutching her binky even in repose... a fire blanket within arms reach just in case her stone sarcophagus burts into flame. Westminster Abby isn't only a tribute to ancient history, but also recognizes modern contributors to English culture including Blake, Chaucer, Martin Luther King, and this soul brother...



You need to pick your afro daddy 'cause it's flat on one side.