On The Move (Again)

My days of living in Cunt's Corner are almost at an end. This weekend I'm moving back to my spiritual home, back with the flotsam and chav scum at the lower end of the Northern Line. Within a fifty-foot radius of my new flat there's a pub, a chip shop, a curry house, a newsagent, a chemist and a pet shop. Fags, booze, fast food, condoms and hamsters - now that's what I call a party bag.



This might be my last post for a while, depending on whether or not I can steal wireless broadband from the pub. Not that you'll notice any difference.