i love it here

the only things i have read are just excerpts and 1 dialogue by plato fully and mcluhan's medium is the massage but it cannot be considered a book

i really havent

i want to do that too

bro i read nothing in my life

its good

Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17

i really havent

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

FOUNDING DOCUMENT

whats your name?

Worse Lift

IWGD

stalgivc is the greatest poster of all time

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 23:49:08

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

.

The only real Londoner remaining is old, bitter, kept around for entertainment, defined by tropes from 30+ years ago. They play gangsters in films, or they work in a pie and mash shop, or they go on Business Insider's YouTube channel to tell you about their crimes. And they somehow still find the time to spend all day hanging about cafes and pubs for you to bump into, to remind you of Real London.

Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50

The Hatton geezer (fuck off) reminds me of this old failed actor who I'd met at a party a few years ago, another man out of time and out of place. This actor had scored a minor role in Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels and never really let go of it, had gone on to build his whole identity around it. I can't really blame him.

sorry i am texting like a slav

Like the tide, it comes in and it washes over the beach. It's beautiful. But like the tide it goes out, sometimes it goes out further than it ever has, it recedes back across the beach and further out beyond the horizon. The bare seabed opens up in front of you and all you can do is look at it.

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life


there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.

thank you

ahnaf abrar

confused - is it the tide or its absense? I still like where I was going with it. anyway, real reader know this site is the note.

He was a proper old-fashioned London geezer (cringe word, hate it, can't think of a better one, worst of all it's the correct word), kind of East Endy, kind of Real London, the kind you don't really meet but if you do it always feels like an uncanny immersive theatre experience. They're anachronistic. They only belong in the London collectively imagined by people who don't spend any time in it.