Last Spring, me and Alias had the good fortune to accompany Siologen on one of his underground adventures. The first trip up to London was just two weeks after I had moved down to Brighton. I had a broken head and everyone knows the best way to mend a broken head is to play on the railway. Since the first trip, we drove up from B-town once or twice a week throughout Summer to mooch around the bits of London whilst having picnics on roofs and dressing up as animals.
The conversation mainly focused around tits, exploring, vagina dentata and probably some other topics too hot for TV. It became customary to leap around Greenwich trying to put eachother in skips and running around graveyards whilst giving eachother shoulder rides. Weepy gusset was mentioned on more than one occasion. Let's leave it at that.
Some nights turned out to be "ENOF" (Epic Nights Of Fail) where we be outwitted by the boys in orange but other nights, things just went our way.
After our first go at Kings Cross which ended up with me taking Alias to hospital with his hand sliced open and sitting in casualty until 6am, this time we had better luck.
The underground has a unique smell which becomes even more noticeable when you're in the bits that don't get regularly swept and febreezed. It's not just the smell either, you wake up the next day and cough a load of black shit out of your chest and sneeze grey blobs.
So if London would like to stop using more stations any time soon, I would be eternally grateful because they were sweet times
Massive thanks to Siologen and Alias
The conversation mainly focused around tits, exploring, vagina dentata and probably some other topics too hot for TV. It became customary to leap around Greenwich trying to put eachother in skips and running around graveyards whilst giving eachother shoulder rides. Weepy gusset was mentioned on more than one occasion. Let's leave it at that.
Some nights turned out to be "ENOF" (Epic Nights Of Fail) where we be outwitted by the boys in orange but other nights, things just went our way.
After our first go at Kings Cross which ended up with me taking Alias to hospital with his hand sliced open and sitting in casualty until 6am, this time we had better luck.
The underground has a unique smell which becomes even more noticeable when you're in the bits that don't get regularly swept and febreezed. It's not just the smell either, you wake up the next day and cough a load of black shit out of your chest and sneeze grey blobs.
So if London would like to stop using more stations any time soon, I would be eternally grateful because they were sweet times
Massive thanks to Siologen and Alias
