bro i read nothing in my life
no like which do people call me
Mon, 01 Dec 2025 23:38:15
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.
something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever
i am quite illiterate on producing technology
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
A roll of 50s is one of the items he dumps onto my table during the search. Of course it is. He asks if I'm a delivery boy or a setter or this or that diamond related job. I keep saying no, I'm enjoying hearing all of these new words. Eventually I tell him that I work in film, which is kind of true. He asks where I'm filming. I'm not filming. He tells me that I can't be that good at it then. He then tells me that he made a film once, in the 80s. It was called Pimlico Rats.
not so on: yvf(wthw)
He went in there with a camera to film it before he moved out of the building. He didn't think anyone would believe the story if he didn't have proof.
He was cast as the guy who gets picked up and thrown out of the poker game to set the scene before the main characters arrive. Out of Real London and into real London, a discarded prop, at this party, chatting to me.
Maybe, Jack, I'm doing this because I'm English?
you have a beautiful account btw
and the fake qualifier
...