Vice has been running a hilarious (and sobering) column for years now called London Rental Opportunity of the Week, which I stumbled on a few days ago; the author is hanging up his shingle and wrote a kiss-off to all landlords everywhere.
One of the highlights of the neighborhood in which I work, besides the close proximity of the Block, is the assortment of regular vagrants who wander the area in various states of distress and mental confusion. So it came as no surprise this morning, when, stopped at a red light in front of the venerable Hustler Club, I turned to my right to see the bare ass of an obviously inebriated bum hanging out over his jeans, which were slipping down around his knees as he exited the 7-11. Having time to kill, I stared, fascinated, as it took a full minute for him to place his Coke and a paperback book on top of a trashcan, hoist his drawers to a more socially acceptable altitude, drop his paperback on the ground, and teeter forwards to pick it up (thankfully, after covering his ass) without falling on his face. Had there not been several cars behind me, waiting at the same light, I may have waited through the green just to observe and report further.