On the 21 bus (to Bank), Thursday morning:



The chap I was seeing at the time was shagging his ex in between us. That was Mark.

On the 76 bus (to Bank, Wednesday morning):



You can't go to your Christmas party and not drink

On the 21 bus (Old St to Bank), Wednesday morning:



I can't imagine Mark doing anything like that. He's all about social propriety.

On the 21 Bus, Tuesday evening (Bank to Old St):



It's a wee bit lumpy

On the 76 bus, Old St to Fleet St (Tuesday morning):



[chav girl on the phone, after 3 minutes + of talking]
Oh shit, I've dialed the wrong number

On the Central Line, Bond Street to Bank (Tuesday Evening):



I'd put him next on my list of people to do

On the Central Line, St. Paul's to Bond Street (Friday afternoon):



This is your art?

On the 21 bus, by the Bank of England, Wednesday morning:



Bethnal Green. It isn't too far. But it's a pain in the arse to get to.

On the 76 bus from St Paul's to Moorgate, Tuesday evening (boys who were coming from the gym):



I've topped four times in five days