If there is one thing I learned about London, it’s that PDA is extremely normal. I’m not talking about just holding hands and pecks on the cheek. Oh no. Full on make out sessions in public where the world can witness your love. Like a couple could be having sex in the middle of the road and everyone would be like, “Oh jolly good, hats off to the happy couple.” I’m not trying to hate, like I’m glad that you are so happy to be with your bae and that you want to “express” your love for each other but could you do that somewhere else? You know, like your bedroom where I don’t have to witness your tongues battle against each other. It’s insane how many people are all up on each other like on escalators. There are couples having full on make out sessions on escalators. Really? Is that really necessary? Escalators? Is that romantic to you? Being in a dingy underground tube station, riding up on escalators, surrounded by posters advertising Matilda turns you on? Really? REEEEEALLY? Can you not? Please. I know, “You don’t have to look, you know?” I get that. I don’t. I try not to but if you’re right in front of me on the escalator or in the same Jack the Ripper tour as me, I’m going to notice. Yes, there was a couple that was way too touchy feely for a tour about a serial killer who liked to cut open prostitutes. Whatever floats your boat, dude but I think you need to get your boat and take it like 3000 miles away. If my lover tried to make out with me while I was listening to a guy talk about how a woman was stabbed in the genitalia multiple times, I would question the relationship entirely from then on. It probably wouldn’t last that long. There is a good chance, we won’t be together by the end of the tour. I’m sorry but no.
What a way to start this post. Genitalia stabbings and make out sessions.
Anyways, today was a pretty normal day so far. It was nice walking around Leicester Square, which for the life of me cannot pronounce. We tried to get tickets for the Lion King but that wasn’t all too successful. We did go to M&M’s World and it was glorious. I mean, it’s m&m’s. There were statues of the m&m’s all over the store. The store was also like 3 stories. 3 stories of chocolate. Perfection.
Nothing much happened for the rest of the night. I panicked a little about life and other things. I was obnoxious and my filter for anything flew out the window with my dignity. I did however get tickets to Richard III which has Martin Freeman in it. The seats we got are also right on stage with him.
This is my chance to look deeply into his eyes and make him mine. I am not one for PDA, obviously, did you even read this post? However, this is the one time I will accept PDA.
I told myself I wanted to find a nice Englishman to bring back to the States and I think I found one, Martin Freeman. He better get ready because we are about to have a love story better than Romeo and Juliet…except any love story is probably better than Romeo and Juliet because they kill themselves at the end and that’s clearly not very romantic. They were also in their teens. Why must thou be ratchet hoes?
I’ll see you in a few weeks, you glorious man you.
For now, I must sleep because I have to wake up at the butt crack of dawn to head to Edinburgh, Scotland. I’ll see you in a few days, people who read my posts. Did I mention that I love you all? Seriously. You’re great. I like what you did with your hair. It looks great on you! Did you lose weight? You are looking too good. Are you an angel or something? Because wow. Just wow. You’re stunning. Did it hurt falling from Heaven?