Keep Your City Beautiful

I've always been a sucker for a man in uniform. Of course that doesn't literally mean I'm a Fellatio Slave for the good looking half of the British Army. Keep it tidy. Or at least keep it vaguely beneficial to me. I digress.

So I woke up this morning with a very large smile on my face (that's better) and sauntered into the kitchen scantily clad in a fabulous pair of La Senza knickers and a little vest, to plunge a cup of real coffee which i planned to enjoy with my morning nicotine hit. I breathed in that heady scent of freedom. No brown curtains, no smell of rotting teeth and toenails, no scabby granny pants the size of an Irish Wolf Hound lying on the floor waiting for me to come along and pick them up with a stick. My facewash was untouched. My food was still in the fridge. I hadn't woken up in the middle of the night with a Daddy Long Legs burrowing up my nostril or a rain spider galavanting across my pillow. I hadn't been shouted at at the crack of dawn by that crotchety old bitch. Yip, I am a billion miles away, free at last and loving every goddam second of it! And although i woke up alone (aaaaaaah - the bit about the big smile and the lacy french knickers was just a tease) it was still unbelievably fantastic.

With a little bit of celebrating on the cards, although just a teensy bit - i'm saving myself for this weekend, i thought i'd head into London for a bite with best mate A, in the swankiness that is Liverpool Street. Believe me when i say that the second those tube doors opened and i had finished gasping for fresh air after having my nose shoved in some McDonalds poster child woman's armpit, the heavens opened and i swear to God i could hear angels singing. There, all around me, as far as my big brown eyes could see, were men in designer suits dashing to and fro, Starbucks in one hand, financial gazette in the other. And we're not talking ancient here. We're talking "I'm a hot young Boss model who's just being paid to walk around here in my fresh-off-the-med tan and my dark tousled hair purely to bring joy and happiness to innocent little Granny Wranglers who have been cruelly cut off from society for weeks on end'. We're talking hundreds of religious experiences on legs. We're talking my language.

Ok I got a bit carried away there. I could go on for hours but that would just be revolting and the tone could get a tad grubby so i'll stop. I just deemed it very necessary to paint a picture of my perfect day which i believe i fucking deserved!! Long live me. And long live the hot little investment bankers swarming all over this beautiful city. Watch yourselves boys, there are a few things I can think of that i'd like to do with those expensive silk ties of yours...

God I love this city.