As it happens, I had to remove his legs in order to remain assured he wouldn’t run away. This induced a sort of awkward patch of time between us but we resolved the issues quicky–I told him he could remove my arms if he felt so inclined. He didn’t though and instead just spent copious time slung over my shoulder, in some instances even came forward so to perfect my emulating a certain Bjorn. Last night we danced to Calvin Harris and then held hands–this was actually more beak to hand than anything–at Florence and The Machine only to finally find ourselves amid a cloud of Dre and Snoop fostered illegal smoke and ultimately in Tupac’s digital presence. Through it all, he was a champ and so when we went home, I gave him a cracker. We gave it some thought and he may actually start his own blog, we’re thinking Flamingo Pete and The City. We’re also sitting together on flight–he says hi. I’m not kidding.