Alice doesn't live here anymore

We went to see Broadcast last night, really good gig preceded by the worst support band in the world, Tralala.
They were like a cross between Josie and The Pussycats, Spiceworld and Coyote Ugly. But Broadcast were good.


Here's a faraway blurry pic of them:


We had a few more drinks, about 8 gin and tonics later and then got a cab home:


Got home and couldn't get in the door. The locks had been changed.

They changed the locks!!

I managed to slide my skinny arm in the letterbox to open the front door. We went upstairs feeling a bit panicky to find that the inside door's lock had been changed and there was this notice taped to the front door:

So Toby climbed up the rusty shopfront and went across a ledge then pulled his whole body weight (not much) up to the window and let us in. We packed our bags -bear in mind this was two in the morning; and slept in our clothes in the same flea-ridden bed in the front room. Sam packed away her money and all our passports under her jumper. Thats hobo-life Sam for ya, always checking her emergency exits before settling down to sleep using her knapsack as a pillow.

Anyway we woke up after about four hours sleep and phoned Toby's uncle and went and called a cab to his house in West Harlem. We luckily managed to find a gorgeous flat today with front room and bedroom, internet phone and TV. Yay!!!

So our address is no longer 87 Kent St it is now 148 2a, 111th St, Manhattan.