This year's bank holiday system is a generous minx make no mistake. These short working weeks, extra long weekends are the stuff that dreams are made of, if dreams could last for 96 hours. It'd be life affirming to have an actual 96 hour dream after we've got through them to get over them such is the relentless pace. Spring has sprung and everybody round our way is living their dreams out of a blue plastic carrier bag. Which on first evening is lovely but, by the time you crawl through to Sunday, one's body is screaming at you to avoid the pub. If at all possible...
The first one was massive - Falling asleep, falling asleep there, meeting weird, yet friendly men in cars, watching gigs in pubs so hot that you'd think your face would melt off, italo disco nights, then sobering up, eating Nando's and biking about in shorts. It wasn't long enough and meant that the three day working week seemed to go on forever. Shorter weeks are the right way forward...
In the face
Where the magic happens
Safety
Next level
The Severed Limb
Second breakfast
Morning
Brewser
Ginster PR hype
Pussy
A stout dragon
Bugs
Al fresco fry up - big scenes
Coco Disco down at the Alibi #dalston
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