Sunday was textbook...Aimless wandering around The British Museum...Old Greek boobies and suchlike...sea creatures and cocks cut off statues. Then I drank enough coffee to wake Darby Crash and read more of The Count Of Monte Cristo.
He really is a sneaky old stick, is that count.
Then I nursed the American with melted cheese and powerade while blowing up policemen in Liberty City.
Bolognese, a Bettie Page biopic and bed.
Sunday.
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