it's hilarious that like, all of classical athens is in the b.m.
london's unhealthy. i've gotten to the point where i'm compelled to hit the tates so i can say i did something other than being thrown out of sketch(which was cool, getting rid of us was more important to them than recouping the outrageous tab for food and booze) then embarking on the worst coke binge ever with this crazy iranian from college. his parents had a place on belgrave road in case they decided to kill all the rich people in iran which they do from time to time. any neighborhood where people get upset helicopters can't land anymore is hilarious. apparently, his parents have put in some crazy maze of a garden after being told that no, a citrus-orchard wouldn't be structurally-sound. the moral of the story is you can be a total mess or even persian and unable to talk but chicks are somehow blind to it when invited to come back to party somewhere banning helicopters upset the middle-easterners, ruskie oligarchs or the 2 kinds of brits, the super-overbred twits who inherited their home like their peripherally-royal title or the guys who play with lots of other people's money.

oh, and i slugged a bottle of wine right before i had to go into heathrow and threw up my pills to go to sleep. into a trashcan in broad daylight. worst flight ever.