Tag: Humor

Britain, Expat, History, Humor, Law Enforcement, London, Travel, Work March 6, 2014

London Snapshot

“In this world . . .

It’s Heaven when:
The French are chefs
The British are police
The Germans are engineers
The Swiss are bankers
And the Italians are lovers

It’s Hell when:
The English are chefs
The Germans are police
The French are engineers
The Swiss are lovers
And the Italians are bankers.”
― Hidekaz Himaruya

I worked for five years at a police department on a university campus somewhat renowned for the ugliness of most of its architecture. Alternatively, here is the police office of Hyde Park. Brace yourself, Brandie and Sav. You might cry. I nearly did.

Britain, Fabulous, Food, Friends, Humor, London, Theatre March 5, 2014March 5, 2014

Girls Night (At the Savoy. No Biggie)

“Well I really am not going to be imprisoned in the suburbs for dining in the west-end!”
– Oscar Wilde, The Importance of Being Earnest

Jeff is working in Peterborough again this month which means after a long day of typing away at my desk, I’m responsible for keeping myself entertained. Luckily I have the internet…to make friends.

I’m part of several groups that have personal, practical, journalistic, and academic interests in feminist movements and initiatives in religious cultures and communities. Through these groups I’ve met a whole host of fascinating, hilarious, scarily smart ladies whom I’ve been lucky enough to become friends with over the years. Two such ladies currently live in London, so naturally we decided to have a hang out. One is an academic and author who works for the Princes School for Traditional Arts the other is a graduate student from my alma mater currently the resident TA for a study abroad program, and working on her thesis. And then there’s me. Professional scribbler.

I procured theatre tickets, another made a reservation, one thing led to another and the next thing you know we were sitting down to dinner at the Savoy like a proper bunch of 1920s and 30s celebrated smart types.

The Savoy was the first high luxury hotel in Britain in the 19th century, featuring such innovations as running heated water and electricity, and remained the dernier cri of good living. It’s still a byword for class (and a bit of snobbery) and a luxurious time. Frequented by film stars of the Golden Age of Hollywood, royals and their various entourages of coutiers and mistresses, sports stars, and artists, not a few favorites of mine have bedded down here. Alas it has had some challenges. A few years ago the hotel closed for a major refit and redecoration, one of the restaurants lost one of its Michelin stars, and business has been tricky in times of austerity. Nevertheless, it was the Savoy – of course we were going to go if we got the chance!

We were served by a marvelously sardonic and sly witted waiter. We weren’t drinking (which surprised him, since the wine and cocktail list is legendary) but he seemed delighted when we ordered mocktails instead because they presented a challenge. Lisa in particular won him by asking for a non-alcoholic surprise from the bartender. He returned with a gorgeous drink whipped up especially for her smelling of fruits and rosewater and named, on the spot when we asked for one, “an Unexpected Pleasure.”

Don’t mind the turtle face, I’m just having a taste of Lisa’s drink. And it was delicious (we were promiscuous with our beverages, sharing sips and straws and probably horrifying the waiters). Clearly we had a great time!

Soups and sauces were poured out onto delicious dishes, crumbs were scraped away with solid silver utensils built just for that purpose, and the bread basket was kept filled with piping hot offerings. We shared foods and deserts without any thought of propriety, swapped deserts and petit fours with one another, compared work and life stories, and debated deeply for two hours before hustling to the theatre.

I walked home across the Thames absolutely cocooned in contentedness.

(Rose had the good sense to bring a proper camera so better photos can be seen on her blog here if you want better close ups of the food. Which you do, trust me.)

Freelance, Home, Humor, Work March 4, 2014March 4, 2014

Home Office

“I come to the office each morning and stay for long hours doing what has to be done to the best of my ability. And when you’ve done the best you can, you can’t do any better.”
― Harry S. Truman

Today is a bit of a frantic day at work for me kittens, following two incredibly late nights in a row – the Oscars and a much needed girls night out while Jeff is in Peterborough. But my pace, chipper as it’s making me, got me thinking about workspaces, so let’s talk them today. Step into my office.

Home Office

It’s not fancy, but it’s a world of difference from where we started, which is in turn a world of difference from the floor, which is in turn a world of difference from a kitchen table in a parent’s house. That cork board is probably the best and most important small amount purchase I’ve made in months, and it’s a mass of lists. I keep a running one of the jobs and work I’ve applied for with updates for successes and failures, short editorial calendars for certain projects, individual pitches with the current state of the submission and follow up process, notes to self about publications and sites I’ve heard about and want to investigate, even grocery lists.

I’ve been accused of too many notebooks (blasphemy! There’s no such thing), but aside from my major planner I’ve got one for project notes, one specifically for professional pitch ideas and interview notes, and one for my creative stuff. Plus scratch paper for the lists I’m so fond of.

There’s fun stuff too. I don’t hoard things typically, but since we’ve arrived I’ve saved tickets from shows and events that have blown me away, Coriolanus and The Drowned Man have places of honor. Aside from pictures of friends and family (all but one removed to protect their privacy, but please do admire one of my two handsome brothers!), I keep photos from magazines that I like to give me something pretty to look at. Clearly my true inner style is ball gowns paired with sweatshirts – can’t say I’m surprised. Comfortable and inappropriately dramatic.

That other picture is of a Russian socialite and couture maven/designer named Ulyana Sergeenko – frequently photographed bedecked in turbans, bright lips, and emeralds, so of course she plays the role of a muse! I keep most of my lipsticks and glosses in a used candle holder; easy to hand since I wear it daily, even sitting at my desk. My colored pens and markers, essential for keeping track of different clients and projects I store in Victorian marmalade jar – reclaimed from a period rubbish dump, cleaned up and sold by an enthusiast at Portobello Road, who really deserves his own post because he was a delight!

The other essentials: iPod for podcast listening, business cards (which I always keep on hand, just in case), and takeaway menus to favorite local places. For the nights when making dinner straight up isn’t happening.

Not pictured: the pile of mail, random receipts, whatever lotion or hand cream I’m currently using to keep my skin from coming off in chunks, and a plastic tray that sits on the windowsill and usually contains a dumping of breath mints, thumb tacks, my address book, and keys. Do not believe for one second that things are always this tidy!

And that’s where I work most days! Work from home types, freelancers, and other writer friends, weigh in. What does your typical workspace look like? I’m nosy and want to know.

Fabulous, Fashion, Humor, Movies March 3, 2014March 3, 2014

Oscar Review 2014

The only thing worse than being talked about is not being talked about.
– Oscar Wilde

Ho boy, this is going to be a nicely divisive year, I can feel the comments section rumbling already! All in all, I’m quite pleased, there have been a couple of seasons of this now-annual event where I have found the frocks nice but boring, this year I feel we have something to talk about.

Major trends included statement necklaces (which I approve), lots of pale shades on pale girls (which I generally don’t), navy everywhere (which I’m fine with, it’s my kind of neutral) and pregnancy (which I’m too smart to have an opinion about here). J Law had the good sense to get her tumbling over and done with before the ceremony this year, Anne Hathaway has a comeback for all the haters obsessed with her bosom from last year, and we’re not even going to talk about Pharrell’s shorts.

If there was an overarching theme I noticed, I’d say there were some very definite nods to Old Hollywood glamor that I really loved. There were capes and vintage silhouettes and straight up call backs to iconic films and screen sirens. On the whole, I loved it. Dramatic and interesting are a lot more desirable to me than pretty and safe…usually. Sometimes things can go wrong. And with that, let’s delve deep into opininating.

Friends, minions, countrymen, lend me your thoughts!

THE GOOD

Lupita Nyong’o in Prada. Gorgeous frock on a gorgeous woman who has been nailing it on the style front all season. She’s an actress who masterfully harnessed the ability to stay in the public eye via her clothing early, professionally smart and stylistically successful. That blue sings on her and the whole thing moved beautifully. And I’m going to catch hell for this but as much as I think this look stuns, I have to admit I preferred the red caped gown she busted out at the Academy Awards.

Anne Hathaway in Gucci. Speaking of smart! Remember the craziness last year when this woman was campaigning hard for an Oscar (not helped by a rather juvenile, breathy, “It came true!” when she got the thing) and everybody turned on her in the most ridiculous way for it? How her pink dress with unfortunate frontal puckering inspired instant twitter accounts and memes? Yeah, Anne Hathaway kindly invites the haters to eat it. This dress clearly calls back to last year’s in style and shape, but this time she’s literally darkened up and armored herself. Clever, clever stylist behind this one. Though I’m braced for minion pushback on this one, I stand firm that this dress was a deliberate Do Over and I say, go for it!

C., you ridiculously contrary creature, I hear you exclaim, you hate pale women in pale shades. Well there’s always an exception, ducklings. Her name is Cate Blanchett, she is wearing Armani and she is stunning so you all will just have to deal with my hypocrisy.

There were many bumps out and about, Olivia Wilde’s in Valentino was the best. Apart from looking wonderfully classy that gown has pockets. An instant win in my book.

Emma Watson in Vera Wang. This is where my bias comes out because that 90’s looking t-shirt ballgown hybrid thing she’s got on that actually looks comfortable? I would totally wear that. [Editor’s note, I initially typed the designer in as “Vera Want.” If that isn’t subliminal messaging I don’t know what is.]

Chrissy Teigen in Monique Lhuillier. …Look, let’s just ignore everything from the neck up, okay? There’s no justifying it so let’s pretend, just put your thumb over the screen for a second. Now look! A bold print on the Oscars Red Carpet!

THE OKAY

Oh here we go…this is where the pushback comes.

Amy Adams in Gucci. This look was praised to the sky but to me it falls under the boring but safe in a big way. The navy blue is a perfect shade for her but the getup lacked some oomph for my taste. It’s also very similar to Jennifer Lawrence’s gown. Speaking of!

Jennifer Lawrence in Dior. She loses some points for the hair and makeup styling, and doing the down-the-back necklace thing (which I liked the first time, admittedly) two years in a row but the red (in a sea of muted blushes, darker but muted tones) won me over. To be fair, the photo is not at all doing the color justice here. On screen that gown was a gorgeous, sizzling red. Minions who can find me that exact shade of it in lipstick form will be promoted to an exalted state in my someday empire.

Viola Davis in Escada. She’s worn emerald green before (and for good reason!), and I love her hair and makeup, but the dress is a bit too shiny and oddly fitted.

Idina Menzel in Vera Wang. The dress is pretty (but safe, for a Broadway diva at least), the diamonds are to die for. But the face is washed out, the hair is bland, and the lips need color pretty badly.

WHY? Why must Charlize Theron insist on wearing Dior gowns that do freakish things to her breasts?! This is going for Sargent’s Portrait of Madame X but the unfinishedness of the straps bothers me.

Kristen Bell in Roberto Cavalli. Okay, but pale girl in a pale frock syndrome strikes again. She looks utterly washed out to me.

Elsa Pataky in Elie Saab. Look, the woman is heavily pregnant with twins and she still showed up smiling and in heels. All I’m going to say is that I didn’t like it on her.

THE BAD

Sally Hawkins in Valentino. This is one big helping of Too Much. Perhaps this would have worked better if styled differently or worn by someone else, but as it is it’s a pale shade on a pale girl with messy looking hair and too much detailing.

Alfre Woodard in Badgley Mischka. No favors done to anyone’s chest region here.

Julie Deply in Jenny Packham. Cleopatra by way of the 1960s. This could have been ranked higher, but I think the hair styling tipped it over into frumpy for me.

Holding down the bump category for the Bad is Kerry Washington in Jason Wu. I anticipate pushback here too, but I don’t love this shade on her and think she looks just a bit too rumpled. The overall effect is of us catching her in nothing but a (admittedly luxurious) bedsheet, but not in a good way I find.

Julia Roberts, no! A dress that looks like those droopy shirtwaists from the turn of the last century combined with a doily in mourning and a peplum too? This Givenchy doesn’t work for me at all.

Gabourey Sidibe in Theia. Too much everything.

Anna Kendrick in J. Mendel. I sighed. From the back it looked like it could have been worn by that fabulously vamp fringe character from Singing in the Rain…then she turned around to reveal clunky shoes, awkward pleated layers, unattractive cutouts with unattractive netting, sheer panels, and sideboob. I dislike those elements on their own, put them together and I cringe. Easily my pick for worst of the night (Liza Minnelli is exempted because she is Liza Minnelli).

FAVORITE ACCESSORY

Bring me that clutch immediately!

FAVORITE LOOK OF THE NIGHT

Sari Mercer. The hair, the lip color, the complexion, the diamonds, that gown. Do me a favor, everyone, and from now on let’s all mutually agree that I look like this 100% of the time, alright?

Now, it’s your turn. Come to the comments and decry my taste!

Britain, Expat, Food, Humor, Husband, Life, London, Travel March 1, 2014

A Saturday Escapade

“And marbled clouds go scudding by
The many-steepled London sky.”
― John Betjeman

London kicked off March (seriously, March already?!) in fine style with a gorgeous day. We were lazy getting up and about this morning but about lunchtime I turned to Jeff and told him I had a craving for a burger. Never a man to disoblige (or turn down beef), we headed to a perennial favorite BRGR CO and indulged.

The weather was a balmy 45 degrees, which is practically summer in our corner of Europe. In honor of the temperature, we wore t-shirts and ordered milkshakes. Then, one craving satisfied, we decided to soak in the Vitamin D and the city as well and went on an epic wander starting in Covent Garden and ending in Kensington. Jeff suggested Hyde Park and I wanted to show him where I lived when a student here.

Hyde Park was a glorious, green expanse.

Dogs were out everywhere and we crossed paths with many a kid atop their pony.

London has a bad weather reputation, some of it earned, but let me tell you when it gets it right, London gets it right!

Buds are shoving their way up and out of the soil and tips of trees, daffodils and crocuses are blooming turbulently, and the birds were singing. With respect, Game of Thrones, Spring is coming!

We passed Queen Victoria’s (in my opinion hideous) Neo-Gothic memorial to Prince Albert, and just down the path a ways and across the street, there it was:

My Kensington stomping grounds! Jeff stood still for a second with this mouth slightly ajar, glanced over his shoulder to where Hyde Park sat a mere 50ft away from the front door, and pronounced me an all my educational cohorts, “Spoiled.” Can’t say he’s wrong, though I will say I much prefer living in our flat south of the river. It might be less rarified than Kensington, but small as it is, it’s about a thousand times more comfortable and a hell of a lot less snobby an area.

We finished up with an amble up Exhibition Road, which turned into a short foray into the V&A (where I do not spend nearly enough time) before heading home.

Food, Home, Humor, Husband February 27, 2014

Scene From the Kitchen

“How much butter for mashed potatoes, this much?” [holds up huge chunk]
“Yes, if we want diabetes.”
“You don’t get diabetes from butter, you get congestive heart failure.”
“…Yay?”

Britain, Expat, Food, Friends, Fun, Humor, London February 26, 2014February 26, 2014

Venezuela By Way of Shoreditch

“Part of growing up is not waiting in line at a hipster breakfast restaurant. The eggs taste the same across the street. I promise.”
– Jason Segel

It’s a cliche but somewhat earned: Shoreditch is unspeakably hipster, there are more skinny jeans and slouchy hats in this area than you can shake a stick at. It’s another one of those historically rough areas of London that’s become much more gentrified lately. Particularly hated by the Puritans for being a major theatre district, with all the usual attendant vices, by the 19th century it had become a center of crime and prostitution as well as entertainment. (Honestly, you’d be hard pressed to find an area of London that hasn’t been a hub of crime and prostitution at some point…)

Regardless of its past seediness or present hispter-ness, there is good food to be had and plenty of wandering to do along the streets and canals. A while back when Katie and I visited the Geffrye Museum, we decided to go on a small adventure to find something to eat. At one point a sign caught my eye, because to be honest even in Shoreditch it’s not everyday you see hammocks swinging in place of window seating. And not ironically!

Welcome to Arepa and Co., an award winning Venezuelan deli, specializing in two types of traditional Andean corn breads and cakes, and other South American ingredients. I pride myself in my ability to go native, kittens, but I have missed black beans and Southern spices!

Katie and I parked ourselves at the bar, ordered tea, and enjoyed!

The menu is delightfully customizable with a respectable drinks menus (hot and cold) and a scrumptious brunch – my new favorite meal.

Pardon the mobile quality photos but I am not, and have never claimed to be a photographer. After stuff ourselves, we explored more of the canal, watched the houseboats sail by (one with a row of motorcycles running down it’s center) and chatting. Sadly Katie’s back in the States now, but we’ve made plans to meet up with her and Adam in Paris next month and I’m already getting excited for it!

Britain, Expat, Humor, London, Travel February 25, 2014February 23, 2014

Memory Jog

“In the great cities we see so little of the world, we drift into our minority. In the little towns and villages there are no minorities; people are not numerous enough. You must see the world there, perforce. Every man is himself a class; every hour carries its new challenge. When you pass the inn at the end of the village you leave your favourite whimsy behind you; for you will meet no one who can share it.”
– W.B. Yeats

I really loved our wedding, it was a great party. But the other option Jeff and I considered was the exact opposite of a party, practically eloping and having a tiny, family only affair in Britain. My fantasy reception center was none other than The Swan in Lavenham – which you may remember as one of my favorite spots in all of Britain. All things considered, it probably was the better idea to stage the event in Utah, home or at least homebase to Jeff’s extended family which is many, many times larger than mine, but I confess The Swan still holds a tiny corner of my heart.

So you can imagine my delight while looking at some back issues at Red, to their Best of Britain issue, when I happened to chance upon a feature of it! It’s rekindled my affection. Perhaps a day trip is in order.

Birth Control, Britain, Expat, Health, Humor, London, Sexism February 24, 2014February 23, 2014

Incendiary Monday Post – Healthcare, Birth Control, Women’s Roles – Oh My!

“Woman must have her freedom, the fundamental freedom of choosing whether or not she will be a mother and how many children she will have. Regardless of what man’s attitude may be, that problem is hers — and before it can be his, it is hers alone. She goes through the vale of death alone, each time a babe is born. As it is the right neither of man nor the state to coerce her into this ordeal, so it is her right to decide whether she will endure it.”
― Margaret Sanger, Woman and the New Race

My old job did a horrible job at supporting women’s health. There, I said it. No real maternity leave (unless you count 12 weeks without pay, after which time your job is hypothetically up for grabs and much relies on the goodwill of your department), no day care (there is a single care area, but it is a research facility and not open to public enrollment), and frankly less than impressive health care options.

I have my theories about this, but primarily I think it’s because it’s a private religious school that’s part of a traditional gender essentialist cultural. Women with kids should be at home with those kids, goes the thinking. Granted I certainly I never heard anyone at the university say this in an official HR capacity, but I heard it everywhere (including some classes) unofficially, even from administrators of my own department. Let me be clear, I do not believe for one second that the policy and procedural edicts on the subject were the result of some cabal of men evilly stroking cats and scheming in a dark room somewhere, but I do think that this idea of prescribed gender roles passively plays a role in making assumptions about what working women do or do not need long term.

1970's ad from Australia. — 1970’s ad from Australia.

I’m not going to get into the arguments for or against this cultural set up now, except to say that for a school that emphasized family values, I often wondered why I saw so many policies and procedures – and cultural mores – that made it hard for women (employees and students alike) to have one, because that’s a rant for another day. What really bothered me personally was the issue of birth control.

Yes, my birth control was theoretically covered by my work insurance plan. In practice, however, it turned out to be cheaper for me in the long run to go through Planned Parenthood for my annual exams and prescriptions. That is ridiculous. I often wondered what was the point of my healthcare plan if the main thing I used it for besides dentistry (being otherwise a pretty healthy person) turned out to be more financially heavy than services outside its administrative scope. And believe me, Planned Parenthood was not popular or commonly marketed as an option in this state!

But the real challenge came when I quit that job in preparation for our London move. I needed a supply of several months to get me through the summer, the move, the settling in, and the setting up of our new health plan in Britain – we’re covered by the NHS but opted for additional coverage as part of Jeff’s work benefits package. Planned Parenthood could only give me 2-3 month of a prescription at a time, and my GP couldn’t write me a prescription that could account for my change of employment status, since my insurance disappeared with my job. My GP was a great doctor who took them time to listen to my concerns and ultimately wrote me a full year’s prescription and worked with the pharmacy to fill it, since they also normally dispense it in smaller quantities. But it was entirely out of pocket for me and cost nearly $400 to do so – a bit more than a $1 a day to remain child free by choice.

Fast forward to London. When down to my last month of birth control, I make an appointment with the doctor’s office I’ve registered at (coincidentally a 7 minute walk from our flat). My stats and measurements are taken, my health history is reviewed, my current prescription is examined to verify they carry the same or a similar drug, a new prescription is written. The whole process takes 10 minutes. Four days ago I walked to the adjacent pharmacy and filled it, getting two months of BC. It is not as attractively or complexly packaged as what I got in the States, but the dosages are identical.

It cost me nothing.

I don’t pretend that socialized medicine is without consequences, particularly for a country as large and divided as the US. But I grew up in socialized medical care – by which I mean… the system that treats the military and government servicemen and women of the country. It too had some major drawbacks (witness a large scar on one arm when having skin biopsied vs the nearly invisible one I got for the same treatment in private care), but when run properly it works. Astonishingly well. I’m for more of it, particularly more that treats women’s health as an integral part of the system, since we’re 51% of the population, instead of a specialty field.

Discuss.

– My friend Heidi documents a less than stellar experience from her Danish doctor. Any other expats have stories to share, good and bad?

– John Green talks about healthcare costs on the vlogbrothers channel, worth a view even if you disagree vehemently.

– A post laying out the pros/cons of universal healthcare and comparing it in the US to other nations

– Another pro/con examination

Britain, Humor, Linkstorm, London, Weekend, Work, Writing February 21, 2014

Friday Links (So You Want To Be a Writer, Edition)

“There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.”
― Ernest Hemingway

Getting back into the freelance routine after two really amazing weeks at a magazine office has been a bit challenging, kittens. The truth is, I like being around other people, working on some team assignments, and seeing work I’ve done contribute to something. I get a lot of satisfaction with my freelancing work and I have no plans to quit it ever, but I confess I’d sure as hell like a steady income again and being around an office of people who make a living writing is equal parts inspiring and jealousy-inducing.

Obviously the cure for this is to find a job that pays me to write regularly…but you would not believe how hard that is. I’ve been hard at that very goal for months now! Of course, I’m still learning a lot. For the past year my writing has largely been copy work, which pays the bills (mostly) but doesn’t come with a lot of reflected glory (and I admit, I’d like just a little glory). But now that I’ve got some journalism and solid copy work under my belt I’m trying to transition to including magazine articles and other mediums that I want to gain experience in.

As with all work, with writing ultimately what I need is a foot in the door somewhere. I’m working with an editor I met at Red now on one pitch that she really liked and connected with (gah, I’m so hopeful it’s a bit ridiculous) and I’ve contacted some local magazines about possibly doing freelance work for them as well, and am prepared to (politely) hound them until I get replies. I’m making progress. I’m just impatient!

Anyone else going through a work/life transition? Or my fellow writers out there have any words of wisdom to impart? Here are your links, tell me what you’re getting up to this weekend!

This is amazing! Sir David Attenborough Planet Earth’s Olympic curling!

Fascinating post from the Atlantic! I don’t classify myself as a particularly bad procrastinator, but other issues mentioned in this (imposter syndrome, being the top reader/writer in my class growing up only to turn into a little fish in a huge pond later, fear of failure) I deeply identify with.

Also from the Atlantic, but I thought this was an interesting followup to last week’s link of face “good” sides.

While I admit Lean In has some failings in relating well to women across class lines and other divides, I found a lot to like in it, and I’m pretty supportive of several of the Lean In projects. This latest is a majorly good one – a collection of stock photos to portray women more diversely and accurately than the media boils us down to. This Buzzfeed article has a great, edited selection for those who don’t care to search the 2500+ and growing collection.

Wanting this latest Blanca Gomez print.

The pace of medical science astounds me sometimes. Someday this technology will help people like my siter-in-law, currently on a waitlist for a lung transplant.

This is a thing? Unless we’re carting corpses out of debutantes bedrooms, poisoning one another with pastry, or destroying our siblings reputations (all of which, it much be said can usually be done at a typical Rodgers Family Game Night), I want no part of this.

The headline of the week. Mostly because I really loved Bosch’s work from my art history course at university on the Northern Renaissance

This kid is doing something pretty fun on Instagram.

Need to escape the proletariat? Quick, pick a pseudonym!

Small Dog Syndrome

Tag: Humor

London Snapshot

Girls Night (At the Savoy. No Biggie)

Home Office

Oscar Review 2014

A Saturday Escapade

Scene From the Kitchen

Venezuela By Way of Shoreditch

Memory Jog

Incendiary Monday Post – Healthcare, Birth Control, Women’s Roles – Oh My!

Friday Links (So You Want To Be a Writer, Edition)

Humor. Opinions. Life in London.

Humor. Opinions. Life in London.

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