The Seeds Of Discontent

If you cycle around town, or walk, or travel by any means vaguely less depressing than inhaling other people's sweet B.O on the Underground, you might have found the last two weeks totally unradical.

These weeks are dominated by the plague of the Plane tree seeds.

Sticky itchy crap getting stuck in your eyes and your throat feeling like you're puffin more herb than Big Pun are the two main symptoms of this madness. For some reason these little bitches fall out of every single plane tree in London roundabout now, and litter the pavements and get blown everywhere and proceed to annoy the living crap out of everybody until they get bored and piss off for good until next year.

On the plus side, you can get away with rockin out some ice-cool shades on the pretext that they're practical.


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