trahern

In the past, when I went to London, I'd pick a tube station and go to it before surfacing and wandering around. This was my version of exploring. I'd get myself lost, then find myself. This worked mostly because I was well fed and had all day.

Today I tried to do that again, but this time I was looking for the tattoo convention. I didn't expect to get to Liverpool St. so late, so I should have considered that exploring until I find the place might be a waste of time. This soon became secondary as the walk completely wiped me out and I decided it was simply too late and went back home.

For the last few years I've been eating like a guy who spends most of his time at the computer. Sure, I walk or rollerblade to Sainsbury's every day just to get a little exercise, get out of the house, and more often than not get lunch (their chicken salad baguettes are bloody delicious). But nothing beats a damn fine slab of red meat with some green stuff next to it, dripping in said meat's juices. I used to do that quite often. These days I only ever use the frying pan to warm up the pasta sauce.

The only real consequences of this that I can tell are that I never lost my tat virginity, and never got to meet Nena. I'm more disappointed by the latter. She's entirely lickable.

However, as I walked, I came across a girl that had to restrain herself from laughing when she read my shirt. So at least I accomplished something.



Edited the morning after to add: ...

Sore, sore, sore
My body is so sore,
I walked around all afternoon
Oblivious to the morrow's doom,
Sore, sore, sore,
Today I walk no more.

And if anyone figures out what the tune to that is from, they can get themselves a double choc chip cookie and imagine I bought it for them.