8/02/2001

(9:45 pm GMT)  today, in rochester cathedral:
dr freed:  see those flying buttresses over there?
us:  yeah.
dr freed:  those are early flying buttresses.  if you went to notre dame you’ll-
me:  so, the late flying buttresses aren’t here yet?
dr freed:  oh, shut up.

rochester is where charles dickens lived for awhile, and after visiting the charles dickens centre, our class walked around town a bit.  matt and i were noticing the dickens-themed shops along the streets, and we decided that rochester is a lot like stratford-on-avon, where the town clings desperately to one tiny thread of connection between it and someone famous.  after we saw a restaurant called a taste of two cities, it was all over from there.  we came up with the oliver twists pretzel shop, the great expectorant pharmacy, the david coppersmith jewellers, and my own personal pride, the pickwick tapers candle store.  a little victorian humor for you, there.

then it was raining, and canterbury, and three girls in a phonebooth, crying, and three girls sharing two umbrellas and soaking wet on a cold train to paddington.  everything changes in seconds

also: cunt cunt cunt cunt cunt cunt cunt.