You know it’s the strangest thing. Moving to another place takes a fair amount and once you are basically done you have little inclination to do anything else. For instance, this very morning the Lord of Leisure woke up and then proceeded to watch Futurama for the entire morning before retiring to the hollowed out monkey carcass known as the “Kitchen” to prepare his brunch.
A mixture of pot noodle, orange juice and sandwiches. Some would say that is the food of champions, while the vast majority of people would say, he’s going to die in less than 5 minutes when his heart finally packs in.
It’s been a few days since the move down to the capital took place and it’s been a varied mixture of emotions. Mostly that of concern and sadness given the fact that the place where I am staying currently is being held together with sellotape and mould growing from the toilet outwards.
Fair comment, but nevertheless it will do for the time being up until another place can be sourced or not, as the time progresses we will find out where the best places to be are, the ideal rental establishment and of course where all the dirty sexy fun time ladies all hang out. We of course, will also find out if it is worth staying here to fight the battle on a daily basis or, like the French, run away at the earliest possible opportunity.*

After a tidy-up of the current residence over the weekend, some exploration has already taken place. Well, why not? You can’t spend all your free time locaked away playing Team Fortress 2….can you? The vital location of the 24 hour ASDA has been revealed, allowing the users of such a place to stock up on vital alcohol whenever those pseky withdrawel shivers start again.
Canary Wharf, a mere 20 minutes walk away, was rather an interesting but brief experience, as you do start seeing the gap between people with and without money.



Shocking the world we live in now, everything is just foul and filthy and that Grand Theft Auto 4 doesn’t help here. Be prepared to be shocked.
Work has been rather interesting this week, a sense of lull, mixed with Lemsip and euphoria has come in, where now it is at the point that consequences are out the window. You can say and practically do what you like without fear or reprisal, granted you wouldn’t drop your trousers and leave a brown present on your boss’s desk at this point, but all the while the one thing you have at the back of your head is:
