Chapter 11
We then walked over Waterloo Bridge and saw St Pauls, etc. There was crazy
poetry written along the subway: Emma decided to walk along, her head on one
side, and read it all aloud, but soon discovered that it was just one line
written 700 times... annoying. Back at the station, George was happy to see
that her RC balloon was still intact and that she only had to pay �4, not �8
for the luggage.
We got on the train and George and Mogoot had another arguement- other
people nearby probably realised that George was car mad, but Mogoot didn't
really care about them, they were too masculine. Idiot. Mogoot accused George
of being "racist against racists" but George didn't care. George had seen 4
Ferraris in London- she was happy.
The train split in half in Bristol (please note that this was intentional)
and we ran out onto the platform and bought dinner- a supposedly good value
meal deal thing- but later decided that we'd been ripped off, damn it. We saw
the "Real (chalk) Horse" yet again- it hadn't moved an inch.
Soon we reached Hereford. From this point we went home and
slept................................
Thankyou for reading this VERY boring story- is very hard to understand at
points. Goodbye, from George xxx :) and her friend Andrew q:) (also a
guitarist)
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