The great thing about where we live in London is the fact that not too far away there's a small park, which Tony calls "a little bit of the countryside, in the middle of a concrete cesspit."
The boy never ceases to amaze me with his poetic descriptions of life in the city, but I reckon he's right when he says that it's a real boost to know that just across the road, there's a place where we can go, when we want to get "back in touch with nature."
Of course, the park has always been a favourite place for Tony, because it's there where he enjoys nothing more than attacking yuppies, in the middle of the afternoon, in the name of pleasure. He's also been known to spray racist comments across the war memorial, and when he's really drunk, run half-naked through the park's lake, screaming obscenities at the top of his voice.
We're eagerly awaiting the arrival of springtime, because then we can take our barbecue to the park, grill a few sausages, drink heavily until nightfall, and then return to our flat completely relaxed. Unfortunately, the police usually don't quite agree with our idea of having a good time, but as Tony says, all the while we're unemployed, we're always going to be persecuted.
Still, as I write, my mouth is watering at the prospect of our first outdoor meal of the year, but in the meantime, we're just going to have to make do with a few more indoor meals, until spring finally gets here.