An e-mail exchange with my friend Tom, which I thought was hilarious.
I : She always comes for my (don't mention it) birthday.
Tom: Happy birthday. I won't ask what number it is.
I : It's my xxx birthday. Fucking old, man.
Tom: Tell me about it. I missed the comma in your second sentence at first and thought "Fuck you!"
(Goes to show why this comma was invented and why I'm so keen on it.)
However, my friend's coming to visit and I've been cleaning the flat. If you ever feel that need to clean, but can't be arsed, just invite someone, that'll do nicely. I'll cook something that can easily be warmed up and the ale's in the fridge.
<----I know it's old, but I couldn't help it. Too funny. Well, these two Germans plan a lot of culture, the odd museum (Damien Hurst in the Tate), I quite fancy the Science Museum (fucking geek, me), we will definitely go to the Arcola theatre, to the roof park and, yes, let's not forget the pub culture.
She hasn't seen the new flat yet and I'm anxious what she'll say. My old flat had Stella written all over it. Quirky, small (not that I'm small), unique and every one of my visitors felt at home immediately. I hope my new flat will have the same impact on her. I quite love it, so I guess she will, too. And she's seeing my big boy after one year. Can't wait to see her face as he's grown so much.
What else is on the agenda? Meeting up with my friends John and Bobby, most certainly English breakfast in a cafe, whatever we feel like, Camden's not far and always worth a visit. A kind woman from the neighbourhood is kindly lending us a spare bike so we can cycle everywhere. It's so much better than public transport and you can just stop for a pint whenever you feel like it.
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