Saturday, January 17, 2004
When you have no religion, there's no-one to be true to; except yourself. I think I may have condemned myself to atheist hell. In a single day I broke four of the central tenets of my lack of faith. In ascending order of pure evil:
1. No Frappucino Consumption.
I didn't just promise myself not to do this anymore, I promised my cardiologist too.
2. No Buying Relax Magazine.
I really fell off the wagon with this one. I just stopped by the Japan Centre to see the new issue, and walked away with four of these insanely expensive, incomprehensible mini-style bibles.
3. Never Visit The Rockwell.
The Rockwell Bar in the Trafalgar Hilton on Trafalgar Sq was Evening Standard Bar of the Year 2002. After previous impossibly bad service I had sworn never to go back. I relented in order to celebrate Hippo's birthday. Despite my fore-boding, I actually had an incredibly good cocktail, a Derby Smash.(Watermelon Juice, Maker's Mark Bourbon, Pimm's No.1, Raspberries, Ginger Beer.) Eventually the bland decor and crap hotel music overwhelmed me, and I fled with the GF to Hanman. Hanman rules: a tiny super authentic Japanese bar in Soho, all yellow neon lit, music from obscurist DJs, and walls decorated with limited edition T-shirts. Much more my style.
4. Don't Wear Dunks.
For no particular reason I succumbed to a whim and picked up the last pair of Laser Cut Dunk Los from Foot Patrol. They are limited to 2500, so hardly exclusive by my standards. The catch is that they have a sweet graf design, created by burning off the outer layer of leather with a laser. Way over-hyped, but kinda beautiful. I probably ought to put them on eBay to save the last remnants of my self-resolve.
1. No Frappucino Consumption.
I didn't just promise myself not to do this anymore, I promised my cardiologist too.
2. No Buying Relax Magazine.
I really fell off the wagon with this one. I just stopped by the Japan Centre to see the new issue, and walked away with four of these insanely expensive, incomprehensible mini-style bibles.
3. Never Visit The Rockwell.
The Rockwell Bar in the Trafalgar Hilton on Trafalgar Sq was Evening Standard Bar of the Year 2002. After previous impossibly bad service I had sworn never to go back. I relented in order to celebrate Hippo's birthday. Despite my fore-boding, I actually had an incredibly good cocktail, a Derby Smash.(Watermelon Juice, Maker's Mark Bourbon, Pimm's No.1, Raspberries, Ginger Beer.) Eventually the bland decor and crap hotel music overwhelmed me, and I fled with the GF to Hanman. Hanman rules: a tiny super authentic Japanese bar in Soho, all yellow neon lit, music from obscurist DJs, and walls decorated with limited edition T-shirts. Much more my style.
4. Don't Wear Dunks.
For no particular reason I succumbed to a whim and picked up the last pair of Laser Cut Dunk Los from Foot Patrol. They are limited to 2500, so hardly exclusive by my standards. The catch is that they have a sweet graf design, created by burning off the outer layer of leather with a laser. Way over-hyped, but kinda beautiful. I probably ought to put them on eBay to save the last remnants of my self-resolve.
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