How not to be a dick on the tube

I have a weird affection for the tube. I personally love living in a city where you can go to a party in North London, decide it’s shit and head to your friends in Clapham and then go home via your man a la moment’s in the east.

I’ve fallen in love on the tube (if you’re reading this yellow raincoat man, you MISSED YOUR CHANCE) and ended a relationship on the tube (oh the indignity of standing awkwardly waiting for your stop whilst your freshly ex-boyfriend starts to do a cry whilst you wonder if its insensitive to put your headphones in – gaaaahh).

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How to help your pal get over a broken heart

Ah good old heart break. Friend to absolutely no one. In fact if heart break were a friend it would be the type of ‘friend’ who turns up to your party uninvited four hours late and then complains that there is no food left and drinks your most expensive bottle of wine.

And does a shit on the living room floor.

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Ladies and gentlemen this is a momentous moment in my life.

This weekend I officially entered my….gulp…late twenties.

I’m not entirely sure how or when this happened. I still feel a lot like I did when I was 22 apart from the fact that it’s become less and less easy to shrug off the fact that actually I’m hurtling towards middle age at break neck speed and will at some point have to you know like umm grow up and stuff HAHAAHAHAHAH (manic laugh).

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