With cranberry paste and horse flesh for fuller, shinier hair

I’ve been idly browsing Kimmie’s bathroom products while we’re here, as I like to do in any foreign bathroom. It seems odd that we as a species have discovered so many plants that are beneficial to the hair — jojoba, the Australian tea leaf tree, papaya, etc. — but none that cure cancer.

Tonight Kim took us to Drinking Liberally as promised, but the Lad and I failed to deliver the lying goods and chose to pose as ourselves instead. Kim’s friends are all intelligent nerds like us so we were able to talk it up like we were on our home turf. Our votes were courted by a local politician, which was my first time for that and I was kind of thrilled. I promised him I’d vote for him, and if I move to Philly before the election I totally will. I spent the rest of my beer correcting typos in the pamphlet Kim is handing out for her political candidate. I like to do my part.

Kim, who once kicked a stranger at a concert because his behavior was annoying her, and who recently had the balls to ask Gloria Steinam a question during a lecture, talks baby-talk to her cat. It’s almost cuter than I can handle.

Tomorrow the Lad and I fly to London where Jack will in theory meet us at a tube station and escort us to our new temporary home. Stay tuned.