I am Nick.
I am legally considered an adult. I'm from London and I have colourful hair.

I have a job and that's fine. And I spend all the money on gigs and alcohol.

This the kind of place where no one cares
What you're living for

I’m on holiday, and yet I still find myself sat up, by myself, drinking vodka and coke by the pint, in the dark, at gone 2 in the morning.

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As Arnold points out, there is an otherwise inexplicable shift in direction in the Piccadilly line passing east out of South Kensington. “In fact,” she writes, “the tunnel curves between Knightsbridge and South Kensington stations because it was impossible to drill through the mass of skeletal remains buried in Hyde Park.” I will admit that I think she means “between Knightsbridge and Hyde Park Corner”—although there is apparently a “small plague pit dating from around 1664” beneath Knightsbridge Green—but I will defer to Arnold’s research.

But to put that another way, the ground was so solidly packed with the interlocked skeletons of 17th-century victims of the Great Plague that the Tube’s 19th-century excavation teams couldn’t even hack their way through them all. The Tube thus had to swerve to the side along a subterranean detour in order to avoid this huge congested knot of skulls, ribs, legs, and arms tangled in the soil—an artificial geology made of people, caught in the throat of greater London.

London and Its Dead

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Best of NotTildaSwinton

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I guess being a bottom is still considered something to be ashamed of. Like ha ha you like it up the bum





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My little sister has her gay friend over, and he’s so gay it’s weird

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