Outta work actor nearly died. Another vintage blog from 2007!

Where in Britain can you convince a polish man in a snappy prints shop to let you print off your resume through his Apple Mac? Where in Britain do you find yourself surgically attached to a paper cup full of steaming Starbucks coffee wherever you go? Where in Britain do you listen to two intelligent Americans talk about British Politics? Where do you have to pay 20p to pee? London baby! Or, as the locals call it, 'Laandin Taahn'.

Today I awoke in the sleepy world of Reading. I'm no longer living in the lap of Hotel luxury (I miss my White Dressing Gown). I'm staying on an inflatable mattress in the living room of his newly purchased, semi decorated, but lovely flat! Oh, how I have fallen so dramatically from my tower. The Folly!! Well, I digress…

This morning I had a brief brush with death that I must share with the world. After crawling out of bed looking like a squished worm with nipples for eyes, I made my way to Michael's newly carpeted bathroom (he did it himself, you know!) – I brushed my teeth, splashed my face with cold water and checked in the mirror… I began to resemble something closer to my own species! Result! So far so good, but then as I got into the shower I heard a mighty crash from the living room. WHAT THE FUCK??? No one want's to hear loud noises in someone else's house, especially when that 'someone' is out and especially not when you are semi naked. Armed with a toilet brush and some clinique aftershave I ventured through the hall. My bare feet on the bare wooden floorboards, my toilet brush held like a baton, my after shave pointed ready to… well, I dunno! Dazzle the intruder with my sublime taste in fine fragrances??? Again, I digress… I tentatively stepped into the living room noticing it was brighter than when I left it. The curtains were wide open… no, the curtains were gone… no, the curtains had fallen down. Complete with the heavy metal pole across the top of the window. The crash had been the curtains and the metal curtain rail crashing down onto… the inflatable bed I'd just crawled out of five minutes before hand.

Close call! I could be dead now!

Killed by curtains!!

Oh I should just get over it I suppose and pull myself together… Get it? 'pull myself together'. Ha Ha! – I'm a funny twat!

So, moving on eh? …After my brush with death I buggered off into London's Blackheath to go view another house. (What is it about Estate Agents and pinned stripe suits?) I liked this house… I saw potential, I like the price but most of all I could picture myself living there!!(watch this space) Then, on a whim I viewed a Greenwich Victorian property too. Bastard expensive, but it was opposite a pub! – Can you imagine? I'd have rubber tubes criss-crossing the street from my bedroom window to the cellar!

Later in the day I had my first 'Yo Sush' experience. I had no idea food revolving around on a metal conveyer belt could be so much fun. (I vow, I'll only eat food that comes to me on a 'scalectrix' from this day forth). God knows what the hell I ate, but it tasted nice. But, I began to get dizzy watching the endless number of little meals passing back and forth, like a bulimics life flashing before her eyes, not good! I shook my ass away before I fell off my stool! I only had one beer, ok?

London has so much variety on so many different levels. I appreciate this is not a city that everyone can love but everyone must love some facet of its multi dimensional appeal. I consider myself very lucky that I love it all. I've yet to find something not to like – am I the only person who doesn't mind the tube? I find it funny watching little angry looking Korean ladies, squashed up to Sweaty old business men on their Blackberries.

I watched a fat goth give a seat up for an old lady with an ipod! Does it get better than this?

What's not to love!

(dedicated to BB)