Benjamin Frankly My Dear- I Don't Know A Damn.

Yesterday I did the London experience... so to speak... so to write. I am not entirely sure of all the places I went, but it was mostly happenstance, as I was only aiming for Buckingham Palace and the Benjamin Franklin house. I will tell you about the latter, later, over a latte- no? I don’t entirely blame you after that “so to write” comment posted earlier.

Recounting where I went is difficult because I don’t know the names of a lot of things- I visited Westminster Abbey, but it was closed to sight seeing, which was disappointing because I wanted to feel like royalty. Thank God there was a Starbucks nearby that created this same feeling with a muffin.

The Royal Wedding is happening April 29th and this is a huge deal- like massive. It’s big in the US, but here, well it’s got everyone driving on the wrong side of the road- HEY O!
In other news, I have one month to break up a wedding and become a princess- I better start exercising!

I saw The House Of Parliament, which was fun, except that I asked two women “where is the House Of Parliament?” While we were standing in front of it. I felt like a bit of a dum dum and they seemed slightly unforgiving, so I punched their faces. I am an American- don’t look at me like that! Do you know who I am?! You do now- because I spoke. American.

I saw the Big Ben and the Circle thing that I shouldn’t have capitalized because I know that’s not the name of it (London Eye)... but what’s done is done, I’m not going to delete all that writing I just did. I am like a self-obsessed literary pack rat.

I had a very nice conversation with a man from Dubai and it was good fun... until he offered to buy my dinner (I wasn’t thinking about it when I said yes). Then it was an unwanted date with questions about later and I desperately wished I would have bought my own fucking mushroom burger. When we left he offered to give me a ride and I told him no because my hostel was a block away- had to be insistent. He was pushy, but I think he just had a flashy car he wanted to show me. I would ask how he could afford such an expensive ride and he would tell me about human trafficking. Liam Neeson doesn’t do the Middle East. I made it home and told Barcelona about it. She was like “how do you get all these guys to buy you stuff?” because it isn’t the first time, but definitely the most sinister... I told her to suck dicks. I hope she does- hilarious! Burger Tramp.

The last thing I will tell you about is The Benjamin Franklin House. I stood in front of this historic house wondering what it looked like... then I realized they do walking tours, so I rang the bell and bought a ticket. I could see why the man was obsessed with electricity- the place needed track lighting like America needed her independence. They both got this, eventually.I see how in historical preservation, making money is as easy as stripping with a bum leg.