There is a bathroom - I'm sorry, toilet as they say here - in Victoria Station that I frequent. Although frequent isn't really the right word, because I don't go out of my way to use it, but whenever I'm passing through I like to duck in. You have to pay 20p to get in, but that's what makes it so charming. And of course because of that (or perhaps in spite of it) the facilities are always clean.

There are no trash cans - I'm sorry, bins - in Victoria Station. This perplexed me for a very long time. There are plenty of stores and restaurants in which to buy various foodstuffs, which inevitably come wrapped in some sort of packaging. There is nowhere to put this packaging when you are finished eating whichever inevitably bland foodstuff you have pretended to enjoy. And yet, you never see British people walking around with handfuls of trash - sorry, rubbish. I finally figured out it was because wherever they chose to eat, when they were done, they just left the wrappers and bags and cups right there on the table, and eventually some guy comes around and cleans them off.

I'm sorry for not having a more exciting story to tell after 2 weeks in England. I did go to Spain; it was hot. Not Paris Hilton hot; Sahara Hilton hot. I saw lots of things and took lots of great pictures and they sure do love Cervantes there.

It's Wednesday night, and you know what that means - free comedy at the club down the street. Even the free stuff here is twice as expensive as in the U.S. Fortunately, 2 x 0 = 0.