huck

Had drinks at The Salisbury, London’s oldest sport free pub. The décor was incredible, I thought “Victorian Dolly Parton.” Regardless, the quiet reserve was present even in the face of some French lady who was freaking out because her purse was stolen right from under her pointy nose. Oy!

Big, fat, cheap dinner on the corner in C-town. Fabulous food. Gauging quality is easy: simply look at the amount of meat in the restaurant’s window display. Here’s a particularly ducky one.

Afterwards, met up with Nat’s super cool friend Amber, who designs band posters. Whilst drinking, randomly ran into a dreadlocked girl from Austin working at the Oxford Arms with whom I share a mutual friend. Moved here on a whim with $300. Small, small world.