I don't know where to go from here
It feels like I should.
It's what Barnie (the dog in the photo). would want.
I think they are best friends.
I'm sorry that my finger is slightly in shot - I was overexcited by the potential.
It was a really busy tube, and lots of people kept heading over, staring at the sleeping duo, and deciding not to engage.
But I really wanted someone to say, "Can you please move your dog?"
Londoners are cowards.
If I was a more awesome person, I would've picked the dog up, and sat back down with it on my lap.
But I'm not.
Plus, Barnie and Barry were emitting a strange smell.
We also have Barry later in the week, on his way to a Safari:
The man loves a bit of beige.
It's nice that he has trimmed his beard.
But where the fuck is Barnie?
Oh, oh I get it, a weathered Londoner has sat on him, and by the looks of it, Barry has then sat a bit on her. Seems fair.
Who the hell is this guy:
No one likes him. I think it's because his shoelaces are made of brown linguine pasta. Or maybe because he's cupping himself.
Is anyone awake? It doesn't look like it guys.
I am, I've hardly slept. But I don't think you can tell.
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