or never left
We gather around the start of a causeway down to the Thames. It's a pretty cold night and there's a breeze coming off the river. I've found the girl, or she's found me, and we're smoking a cigarette while we watch the dim silhouettes of the French Raj and his fireworks bearer down on the bank. They're fucking around with the box. I ask her what people do with fireworks for so long before they're ready to light. She doesn't know.
Thank you, Jack
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.
Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46
its good
We look out over the river to a block of luxury flats built on the site of some old docks. It would be nice to live right there. Yes. The conversation drifts to the pleasantness of warm lighting and whether anyone needs a smart home. I interrupt her to make a joke about the French Raj as he runs up the causeway. We stand there laughing. The fireworks go off behind him.
what do you mean
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
Wed, 11 Nov 2025 21:12:41
i have read not even 1 book
My inability to confront the old racist failed actor is distracting me. I decide not to tell her about it.
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
stalgivc is the greatest poster of all time
fw
have you read
send your tumblr
like first name
there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.
really i want the internet