The Big Smoke: Volume 1

A Rockstar In London ...

A week has elapsed in the Northern Hemisphere under the watchful eye of yours truly. By far the most noticeable facts of the last 7 days is that its cold, my rockstar good looks are just as breath-taking trans-equator, and, its cold. However, it seems a fair trade that they offer Robbie Williams in exchange for myself.

For some unknown reason, the Brits insist on calling this spring with all the fervour of a nation who cannot tell the difference between the sun and a fluorescent lamp, and furthermore insist on referring to South Africans as Saffers. None of this however, can be seen as nearly as annoying as the fact that my hard-earned degree from the school of hardknocks is about as useful as a male pornstar in a dyke bar. Possibly less so.

Not seeing the sun has its upsides. When I figure them out I'll let you know.

Later mate. Safe, innit.