Just by chance, I was able to make my way down to D.C. to be apart of history. Here is what that week-long endeavor was like.
Somewhere between a diner and “dame más gasolina,” we paid £10 to listen to 50 Cent.
Grab a coffee from The Dayrooms Café when you’re feeling bougie.
“We solve crimes. I blog about it; he forgets his pants. I wouldn’t hold out too much hope.”
Spoiler alert: it is not the pub.
(or: the one where an American eats baked beans for breakfast!)
Thanksgiving in England turned out way better than I expected, given the irony of it all.
We already knew we wouldn’t be able to find collard greens.
The civil unrest isn’t nearly as bad as you’d think.
What kind of black hipster in London would I be if I didn’t pay my respects?