Farewell to lovely London

Setting up for the leaving party
Don't judge.

Don’t judge.

In the end, it always boils down to one question: When did I collect so much shit? Most people who fall into the same young, mobile, relentlessly transient and unapologetically expatriate demographic have probably found themselves asking the same question periodically. You move to a new city or a new country with just a few bags or suitcases and feel so free! So unburdened! The world is your uncluttered oyster. But somewhere along the way you settle in (not down–that’s something completely different involving, I’d imagine, 401Ks, diapers, and digging your own grave), start buying more clothes and books than you need, and find a cool lamp and some rugs to make your space feel homely. Before you know it, years have passed and you’re now the co-owner of a two-metre Communist flag, boxes of funny hats and EL wire, an ostrich egg and, god forbid, a set of wine glasses. Or something like that.


We are lucky. Compared to other “quit our day jobs and live the dream!” couples, we didn’t have to clear out an entire apartment’s worth of boring shit like sofas, dishes, and DVD collections. No, in just a few years in London we managed to collect almost nothing but endlessly amusing, useless shit (okay, and a set of wine glasses–useful!).

We are lucky that the people we know have the exact same taste in endlessly amusing useless shit as we do, and were so excited to take that shit off our hands.

The height of modern revolutionary chic for 2014

The height of modern revolutionary chic for 2014

We are also lucky to have lived in London at an unusual, quirky house with a continuously fluctuating number of fun vagabond housemates who were happy to join in our gypsy circus-themed leaving party. We are lucky to have an absolutely amazing circle of friends (who also brought their friends) give us a mighty send off over the course of 24 hours–a memorable house party for both us and the plumbers who unexpectedly arrived to a trashed house on Monday morning.

It's all about teamwork, mother fuckers

It’s all about teamwork, mother fuckers

Party party

So here we are in Germany, having said farewell to one of the greatest cities on Earth. We’ve managed to boil our belongings down to just a few suitcases and boxes (Mook actually left London with less than he came with), and have sworn off ever collecting so much shit again–for now. Living out of our car and our backpacks for the next few months (years) we’ll definitely be limited to how much shit we can accumulate, although I personally refuse to pass up any truly unique, truly amusing shit, and plan to mail it all to myself back here in Europe. When our tour ends, wherever it ends, we are going to be the king and queen of endlessly amusing useless shit.

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