I do not believe in the talents of Gene Hackman

yep. still at it.

















I'm back in London. It's sad when England is civilization to you. Not in the sense that England is a terrible place, but it's still not home for me.
















This was my beacon of hope for good in the world. English breakfast. To the untrained eye this looks like a pile of food matter indiscriminately shat onto a plate, but at closer inspection, it is a highly balanced, scientific cornucopia of magical flavors. Joy. Being back on the 'bread and cheese all the time' diet, this has been a welcome change.

















This is the much-touted club in Sheperd's Bush that is set up in a disused public toilet. Class. It's my experience that parties in the toilet don't begin until the end of the night. You'd have to be a real dick to hang out here. Just so you know.















I took this picture in Amsterdam the other night. I haven't been out with a band who have had such rabid fans as these in a while. Granted many of them are young, but they all sing along to the songs, some cry, and most wait for the band at the end of the night. They are often very polite and only want to shower them with affection. In mass, however, it's a bit terrifying. Here Ben is mere feet from the bus door and has been cornered by a dozen or so kids. Back away Ben, back away.















...on we go.