Nelson looks out over Trafalger Square. If there is something that I have in common with the Spanish Armada it is that every time I see Lord Nelson the trip is going to be a massacre.
Typically at the hands of this man... This time the venue was Ascot Races.
Her Majesty was in attenance... along with some miscellanous fat English guys.
With the official procession completed the sun came out and the jackets were off.
The boys for B-ball were true to form and parting hard.
Loco and Bomb both postponed finding true love by again being lucky on the GGs.
Up 300%? Sell, sell!!
We hit the pub on Sunday to see England play Ecaudor.
Braden pondering... either the fate of Ecaudoring football junior development following the loss or why it is that the Brit's give a shit about Posh and Beck's love life.
I am never staying here again. The jaccuzi was too warm and the caviar too cold!
Hyde Park put its best foot forward in the summer sun.
Another good trip to London Town... and as I trade in the bright lights of the big city for the simpler pleasures of down-to-earth Aarhus, I (and my liver) thank god that I only come for the weekend!
See you soon Lauren!
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