It seems appropriate to start inflicting the digital ether with my crap today as, after 6 months sampling Travelodge’s finest, I have finally moved into my new home. I feel like a modern day Oliver Twist, without the gruel and kidnappings (and most of the original plot) but for the purpose of this analogy, I was homeless in London and now I am not. My hands look like an 80 year-old man’s ball bag after dragging my suitcase up and down tube stairs and along scummy side alleys and that’s Oliver Twist enough for me to feel suitably sorry for myself.
In any case, I think I should prefix this blog by establishing that, apart from feeding my greedy attention habit, it has no real or worthy purpose. Everyone’s doing it and I’m a shameless sheep.
Hell on earth.
(Photo by Jules Schratter - http://throughjuleslens.blogspot.com/)