cold fingers of xmas

call this an interim (are any of my net writing other than..?) post til we get the dark aged ones who run the 'technology' in this dickens-era town to give us our broadband line back (these folks invented bureauocrasy 'member...)
sittin in leceister square; looking at a cool old-skool looking (but immaculately newly painted & lit) horsey-propelling carousel. one of those rotating, people-in-teacups type rides thunders around at 90dB a metre to my left while it's current riders scream & whoop in a vain attempt to overpower the steroid tempo techno blasting from yonder. this is xmas chee(z)r london style.
my fingers are getting cold. i'm @ a wifi hotspot paid 4 by some corporate entity with pretensions to adulation - they don't provide hot coffee tho, so i can only last so long...
love to all the loves & lovers out there til i get my greasy telecommunication wires on u during jesus' big day.
kisses,
leon