International Mojo

I'm working hard these days. Taking it for the team.

My 4th of July was spent in a narrow metal tub hurtling towards Britain. In coach - just in case you thought there was any glamour or even comfort involved. I left at noon; no fireworks for me. I arrived in London late on the morning of the 5th and was promptly picked up by a cab driver.

...and I don't mean driven.

Jools was a cutie, but clearly clinging fondly to the hair band days of ye olde 80's.

Can't blame a bloke for trying. He insisted that I take his number in case I changed my mind about getting together with him on Friday night (my only free time during my stay before departing the next morning).

It's good to know that even after a full day and night's travel, with no makeup on and poor hygiene the mojo still exists.