Londonage
On this past Saturday I ventured to the abscesses of England , to London . Essentially this trip was to see the mighty David Gilmour at the Albert hall, but I also decided to pay a visit to an old army-buddy (Well, I say “old army-buddy”: a Uni-mate in his early twenties) called Cunzy11. Anyway the roster for the trip was as follows: Make it to London . Find Cunzy11 Drink Alcohol Purchase/Drink a Cosmopolitan with a Straight face. See David Gilmour. Break into the Big Brother house. Get home. Step 1: Make it to London . First off: there was no fucking way I was travelling to the depths of England in a bus for like a Million hours so, I bought some of the bog-standard internet flight tickets from Glasgow to London. After venturing for an hour on the Train I finally make it to the airport with 45mins to spare (as the tickets said). Well, I check in and the Big-Magical-Screen-of-all-knowing says “Flight Closed” so I fuck about in the airport, wander through W