I picked up the Evening Standard today on my way back from sightseeing in Westminster and apparently, while I'm on holiday the world is ending. A great American city is wiped off the map and there is rioting, gun fights, and mass chaos. The troops that are supposed to be there for exactly this kind of scenario are dying in that unwinnable debacle known as Iraq instead. China warns of impending nuclear war with the US. CBGBs is closing due to an asshole landlord. Gas prices are skyrocketing with no end in sight. Sigh. I'm gonna have to sell my car, walk everywhere, and live off of carrots I'll have to grow in my window sill. If I have a window sill.
I'm trying to enjoy myself and make the most of my last vacation ever, but food is so goddamn much money here that I'm getting stingy. I'm supposed to be off at the pub every night, but instead I'm eating two meals a day consisting of supermarket sandwiches and orange juice. I'm thirsty, it's hot, it's even hotter in my room and I'm whining like a little bitch. I am enjoying London, though. I could have done without the security guards following me throughout the museum today, but that seems to have happened to me all my life and I may as well get used to it.
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