You take the No.6, walk the filthy corridors and try to not touch the handrails as you wallow like desperate salmon in order to deal with nefarious characters. And then you wait and wait and wait….all for a cut-rate, faux Gucci clasp. Daughter wishing she were in Soho drinking a double-soy, mother wishing she was anywhere else.
Latest posts by Jim Jamitis (see all)
- A Tale of Revenge That May Have Inspired The Statue of Liberty - February 6, 2019
- Tom McGuire & the Brassholes’ Debut Album Body-Slams You With Glaswegian Soul - February 1, 2019
- Monday Mop Up: Explosive West Coast Funk from ORGŌNE, Irish Country, Cannibal Rockers, and some Wunderkinds - January 28, 2019