It’s so easy to watch in awe at the recent news while ignoring everything else that we, the mere working mortals of this world actually have the ability to do anything about. Not writing to your elected official about the lack of foxes stealing little children from the park or those damned kids throwing rocks through shop windows to steal the latest 42in flat screen. Just silly things that you’re obliged to have an encounter with at one stage or another in your life, that you never consider until the moment arrives. This is one of those moments.
It’s been some time since I spent a wind-swept Sunday with a happy go lucky chum (who we can only suspect was bored to do anything else) moving home from a one room cardboard box which was called by some “the country club” into a one bedroom deluxe hive of scum and villainy (some of the residents are in fact from the cantina scene in Star Wars), and soon afterwards there was one thing that was noticeable that anything else and it’s actually a very very scary thing.
There was more room. Consider this for a moment. More room.
From the vomit on the keyboard in front of you, I can tell that you were sick at the sheer horror at such an idea, considering that in London a mere £6000 a second will get you an empty crisp packet with outside toilet aka the street. What are you meant to do with more than one metre of room in a place that is entirely your own until the landlord throws you out?

The furniture whore houses for the middle class.
Well, that’s the scary thing you see. Not only does it tell you that you didn’t have that much to begin with, which in itself makes you think that you aren’t actually doing as well as you might think even though that has no bearing on anything at all. When you have indeed take a good hard look at the additional room, the natural instinct that we urban dudes with our floor length mink coats and cheeseburgers leap upon is what crap to buy to fill it up with. Continue reading →



The stand-up comedy left a lot to be desired if the Ha! club was anything to go by, it’s also the point that the HA! name may actually be ironic. You see, you’re led down to a basement where you are told that after paying for the entrance fee, you are then told you must buy two drinks as a minimum where everything is $10 each. Wonderful, I’m laughing already.

