London Part 2

Georgie Best! Yes, that was the man ... old 60s footage all over the news, he was quite a hottie in his day but done in by drinking. Moments of silence all over the place and ... the Brit version of football is sooooooo much sexier than our version.

Also a scandal broke as we were leaving .... footage of naked Brit marines having some vicious row in the mud, some testoterone he-man initiation bit, looked VERY hot but of course the news pixiled out their privates.
Did get to the Portobello Road for some antique window shopping with some art gallery browsing.

Our hotel was in the Belgravia section near Victoria Station where we've been fortunate to have a number of good restaurants to pick from. Our last night we enjoyed big juicy steaks at the Thistle Hotel on Buckingham Palace Road. If only they could've served me Prince Harry's b-hole instead creme brulee but ah well. Next time I'll corner him!
A hottie in his day. It was reported on the news over there that the hospital handling him paid all his medical expenses because he had no money whatsoever. Earlier in life he had to have a liver transplant due to excessive alcohol abuse but later he destroyed the new liver because of the same reason. Sad.
Almost two in three Britons are unable to speak a language other than English, in effect the worst record in Europe, a survey for the European Commission has found. Sixty-two per cent of respondents from the United Kingdom admitted they could not speak any language other than their mother tongue.

This compared with an average of 44 per cent across the EU and just 1 per cent in Luxembourg, the top-ranking country.


Quel suprise!
How bout a six foot one 135 pound, self-exiled German ex-pat, for maybe eight days every third month one year. Close enough for me. Especially with teeth clenched around a genetically enhanced strawberry lifted with the lips off the fruit and ice-cream drenched body of a pole dancer prostrate on the stage of Gomorrah.
Today is the 70th anniversary of the "Battle Of Cable Street" when, in 1936, hundreds of thousands of East Enders gathered starting at Aldgate and prevented Sir Oswald Moseley and his Union Of British Fascists from goose-stepping through our beloved Whitechapel... Irish washerwomen and dockworkers, Jews, communists, trade unionists, anarchists and most likely whores and poufters as well gathered together to deliver a resounding "NO!" to the Blackshirts.

Read The Guardian Article Here...
I'm a big believer in making your own fun, wherever you live. The southwest will no doubt be a livelier place with you in it, Stan. And rumor has it they're much more partial to titty bars, seedy saloons and back room what nots in those parts, even if it is "red country". Enjoy, my black flower of the desert and stay connected online.

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luccy

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