A camera belonging to a particularly amusing man destroyed my b&w pictures as there are NO FACES because of his DEATH FLASH.
All the ones of the guitarist were a blurred mess. And not even an arty blurred mess.
On Sunday, my father found a letter buried under much paperwork and it turned out to be those Dirty Pretty Things tickets! So Amy and I braved perilous traffic (ever crossed by Marble Arch not using the lights? Go on, try it) and deranged red setters to go to Shepherd's Bush. Never been there before. I've led quite a sheltered life, really. Amy bought Red Stripe. I had Nurishment. We sat in the park with the drunks. Amy drank out of a bag to make them feel good about themselves. I had loads of hassle from the local foreign men. I didn't do anything. DPT are boring, aren't they? Come on, admit it. Highlights of the evening included beer being poured down my panties and seeing members of Paddingtons. We left after about five songs.
On Monday, we saw This Is England. It's a bit fantastic! See it. I shall leave with some bad news. I have to wear glasses FOREVER.I'm not vain or anything, but imagine what happens when it rains.
