little horses jumping around

So a cab driver crashed into me this morning. He broke off my rear reflector and swore at me continuously. These are the trifles of living in London. I stood for a second outside st pauls in shock and awe and watched him speed away. I noted down his number plate. I vowed to take ' decisive action '. I went back to my German bank temping desk and felt abused. I watched some patti smith on you tube. I wrote an aggressive email to computer cabs complaining about their ignorant defunct cab drivers. I went home and drank some really nice South African red wine. I got under my white sheets and thought about Kurt Cobain and how I could look like him for Saturday night.