There was no January detox in our hood. Although we took the foot off the drinking gas somewhat, we didn't come slamming to an emergency stop like all the magazines tell you you should. Two fingers to that. Instead we've remained at a low level of drunkenness, enough to get through the working week with a solid spike on the pintometer of a weekend. And now we're in February, we can get back to the normal routine of having enjoying dollops of drink whenever we feel like - hurrah.
Shit has been real throughout the early part of the year. After the glory of the darts at the Lakeside, there's been injections of culture (visiting London's Roundhouse for a showing of Fuerzabruta), delicious scran (at Mussel Men in Dalston) and the ridiculous (buying a 4kg of onions for £2 - still eating the bastards now). Here are some of the highlights...
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| On the travelator |
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| On the telly |
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| Work shoes |
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| Custard on toast |
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| Dancing bear |
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| Rabbit in a cabbage |
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| Zoom in - turns out A Guy Called Gerald has liked a picture of my sister standing outside Greggs |
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| Mucky breakfast |
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| Oh deer |
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| Monolith |
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| Reservoir up past Stoke Newington |
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| Mussel Men's Sunday Roast |
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| London Roundhouse - Fuerzabruta |
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| Cameras ready, prepare to flash |
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| Biggie |
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| Baked camembert |
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| Love scratchies |
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| Lads |
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| Hero |
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| Lamb tagine |
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| Safety first |
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| Pregnancy vs acid trip |
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| Yeah bozo |
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| Wu 4 eva |
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| Eggy |
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| Tony Bleurgh #williammorris |
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| Singing bastards |
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