thrones & boats

We followed the crowds on Saturday, to watch the Oxford-Cambridge boat race in Putney.

It was cold, the queue for beers was laughable, and after nudging our way to the bank of the Thames, didn't see anything anyway.

The crowds roared, one geezer was climbing a tree to see over the throng of people, and ten seconds later they were already in Hammersmith. So, all in all, unless you went to Oxbridge, it's a bit of a non-event.

We were hungover from a night out in Soho previously, so eventually, after much grumbling, decided to go home and drink tea.

Because tea fixes everything in this country.

On Sunday though, the Brit and I braved King's Road. As in, we decided to start looking at shit we need for our house.

Crisis, the excitement. I was having orgasms every five seconds whenever I saw a cool chair or an amazing bed.

Thank God it's bonus month, because it looks like decking our house out in Swedish-contemporary-vintage tastes is going to cost a hefty fee.

Luckily, the first part of the problem is sorted. We have the same tatstes. The Brit might not go apeshit for antiques like I do, however we are nicely aligned to like the same stuff. And Christ, is there some amazing stuff in this town.

That said, I'm the lead on decor. To substantiate this argument, it's fair to say that I think about decor as many times as the average man thinks about sex in a day.

"You know how you think about Aston Martin's all the time?"
Yes....
"I think about crockery roughly the same amount."

Also, the Brit is a techie. He's going to be decking out our place in the latest of audio and visual machinery. We won't talk about the UFO-shaped elliptical speaker system he wants to mount on the wall, but then, he's decided to turn a blind eye to the red Louis the Vth chairs I'd like for our lounge.

They look like thrones. We'd be enthroned, like the Royals, like the life in which we were meant to be born.

We spent a lot of time dreaming, anyway.