Monday night, lousy weather. I must say that I am this evening atmosphere increasingly been able to gain. In England, although the contemplation is not so much by the Konsumfanatismus expressed as on the Continent, but I think now that this feeling rather by the lack of light and temperature as adjusted by decoration and Weihnachtsmarktgedrängel. After all, here is one of Wham's killer spared nerve "Last Christmas" (at least until now * touch wood).
I wonder a bit about the scenes that take place at the moment in English small and large cities, even the last toothless, joggingbuxentragende Vollasi runs with at least three stuffed shopping bags around, but to which then three schoko smeared toddlers and desperately trying not to get carried away by the oncoming stream of other toothless Vollasis. When I run errands for any student in my pocket watch I ask myself every time the question: Where have the money for such a monstrous Christmas?? The same way, one wonders even if you look at the clientele of a pub, to destroy the seemingly endless amounts of beer seems. Maybe there's already ne-Flatrate beer and I slept through the latest trend ...
I have now called CHAVS (Average Council House) - even learned to like them very much - this is called generally the dregs of British society. Especially after the last weekend in London, I am again, if I want to sell a Tracksuitträger in the Liverpool Echo and he with a "ta mate" still thanks that I still would not buy and he will do the rest of the humid afternoon, a thousand times the same. That is the charm of the "Pearl of the North West", since it can not keep up the bustling activity of the stuck-Hauptstadtmolochs.
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