London, I like your double decker buses. I like their colour. I like their second level. I like the front seat. Up top is where the bad boys roll. That’s me and my guy Roy. Just sitting back and being respectful to all those willing to shine upon us with their smiles. Plus your buses are huge. Big giant yawning beasts, like Hannibal’s metal elephants crossing the Alps to fuck with the Greeks.

A London summer has a way of making a fella feel like he’s already jerked off three times that day. So it’s without hesitation that I choose the blissful high of a two tier traffic terminator over the torturous tyrant-like tube. I even caught a bout of Swine Flu on one of those buses in 2009. In 2012 I wet myself on a late night double decker out of Peckham.

I’ve seen the beautiful people of London sit stoically in the face of interaction. With brave faces pressed upon glass and unblinking against the stench of life – I’ve sat with them and I’ve thought: ‘let’s hope this never ends’.

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