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About Reykjavik

I saw this bird once, down Soho way, legs like a giraffe on stilts, totterin’ in heels that’d snap yer neck. Made me laugh, it did – “She’s got a vibe, man, heavy!” – but Christ, the state of her! Hair like a rat’s nest, makeup smeared like she’s been shagged through a hedge backwards. Proper munter, but I reckon she’s got stories, dark ones. Bet she’s seen blokes cry, blokes beg, blokes puke – the lot! Little known fact, right – some prossies back in the ‘70s, they’d nick yer wallet while humming Bowie tunes. Sneaky cows!

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But then, BAM! A seagull swoops down and snatches a kid’s sandwich right outta his hand! I’m dying laughing, but the kid? Not so much. He starts crying, and I’m like, “Dude, it’s just a sandwich!” But I get it, I really do. I mean, who wants their lunch stolen by a bird?

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