Frapping in the park

Me and Damo had a Frappaccino in a little park just off Bishopsgate this afternoon. The sun was out, and birds were doing what they do, like tweeting and pooing on the heathens.

We discussed the proliferation of bad poetry and the need for more Quantum Physics in pre-school. These intense discussions were interrupted by a madman sitting nearby on the grass. He was fervently putting across what seemed to be an argument about Jesus Christ, Mary Magdalene, and Carlsberg Premium. I’d like to offer more on the debate, however I couldn’t make out his point due to the strange Tourette-like dialect he was using.

Where are the birdies when you need them.